


Coming Home

by ladydragon76



Series: The Last [3]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, Warning: Disturbing Mental Images, character: autobot ensemble, character: barricade, character: jazz, character: megatron, character: optimus prime, character: prowl, character: ratchet, character: red alert, character: soundwave, character: starscream, character: wheeljack, genre: angst, genre: drama, genre: hurt/comfort, genre: tragedy, series: the last, smut: sparks, smut: sticky, the amazing lb82, verse: post rotf, warning: au, warning: canon- what canon?, warning: mech-preg, warning: read at your own risk, warning: triggery content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1422271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Out of choices, Megatron returns to Earth with Soundwave, only to find that Prime’s built himself a little Utopia, and he’s not exactly welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** Post Return of The Fallen  
>  **Series:** The Last  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Optimus Prime/Starscream, Megatron, Soundwave, Autobot Ensemble  
>  **Warnings:** Once again we start off a bit painfully. If loss of an infant and mentions of such are triggery, you might want to skip the first part. Also, if you haven’t read _[The Last](http://archiveofourown.org/works/203795/chapters/302248)_ , you’ll probably be a bit lost here as I developed the reproduction theories in that fic and will only touch on them again here. Sticky, Sparks, Not as dark as the first, but mention of past rape and trauma. Read at your own risk.  
>  **Notes:** OMFG, it’s FINALLY done. It only took four years! Thank you to DracoQueen22 for the in-depth and very helpful critique! Thank you to the Twin, and Crack-the-WIP comm, and everyone else that ever encouraged, prodded, and asked after this fic. Enjoy!

Prowl lay silently, trying to calm the torrent of his thoughts.

It wasn’t working any better here than it had in his office.

“You’re shaking,” Star said.

Prowl nodded. No sense denying it. Not with Star’s arms wrapped around him and his body pressed in tight, seeking comfort from the only other mech that could, unfortunately, truly understand his pain.

He drifted for a moment, marveling at how much had changed. How much _he_ had changed. They had all become so much closer, far more intimate than ever before in Cybertronian history. Of course there were so few of them now. More had arrived, but their numbers were still ridiculously low. It had been easier than Prowl had expected to open himself to others. First Ratchet, then Starscream. Then Prime, whom he had always been close to, but was even more so now. Then others, until even the former Decepticons could sit close and lean against Prowl’s side, and he wouldn’t flinch away.

In fact, it was rather impossible to hold anyone at arm’s length when they were your lovers, and lovers’ lovers. Once it had been announced to everyone that it was possible to reproduce, and the teaching began, inhibitions fell to the wayside. And stayed gone. In a way it was comical. With nothing much to do in their down time, everyone -literally _everyone_ \- began experimenting with one another. For a long time the conversations in the common room were often about who had been with whom just an hour ago, and ‘Oh, you have to climb in his berth!’, and ‘Have you been with-? He does this thing with his tongue-’.

It, surprisingly, had not interfered with the more serious relationships. Couples played by themselves or together with other lovers. Prowl and Ratchet had both once worried that they wouldn’t be able to have an intimate relationship while carrying sparklings for others, but it hadn’t turned out that way. Prowl still managed to blush when he thought of those early debaucheries.

He still smiled over them as well.

And the sparklings! It was very difficult to be possessive of your partner when you held the adorable results in your hands, against your chest and over your spark.

Prowl was completely in love with Ratchet’s firstborn. Gauge was adorable, predominantly red as his plating darkened, but marked by lines of silver. An amazing blend of Perceptor and Ratchet, he was sweet and smart, quiet, but with a mischievous flare that made him a favored playmate to Thunder and Sky.

Prowl loved all six children.

There should have been seven.

Star sighed heavily, drawing Prowl back. “Well, are you going to tell me, or what?”

Prowl felt his mouth quirk into a slight smile. Some things hadn’t changed. Star would never completely stop being Starscream.

Remaining burrowed into Star’s neck, Prowl answered, “I’m afraid to try again.”

“Then don’t.”

“I want to,” Prowl whispered, and squeezed his optics shut tighter.

“Have you chosen yet?”

Prowl pulled his head back with a surprised frown, and look at Star. “I-I owe Red Alert. I-”

“No,” Star snapped, an angry scowl on his face. “You owe him _nothing_!”

Prowl stared for a moment, confused. “But I do. I lost-” This time he cut himself off, the pain washing through him and stealing control over his vocalizer.

“You owe him _nothing_ ,” Star repeated. “His name isn’t on the list.”

“It’s assumed,” Prowl said. And it was. He had agreed half a vorn ago to carry Red Alert’s sparkling. He’d failed. He still held that promise. “I have heard him speaking to Inferno about it. They’re both excited, hoping it works this time.”

“His name isn’t on the list!” Star insisted. “And of course you’ve heard them talking. I’ve heard them talking, everyone’s heard them talking, and if Prime doesn’t get off his aft and talk to _them_ , I’m going to do it myself!” Prowl watched, knowing there was no stopping Star on a rant. “Primus below! If you heard them talking, how can you even _think_ of carrying his sparkling?!”

“They can’t wait to see the infant, to hold him, to-”

“To use you as nothing but the mindless breeder I feared being used for when I first got here!” Star cycled his vents in frustration. “What happened last time?”

“You know what happened,” Prowl whispered, and shifted his gaze away from Star’s.

Star snorted. “Is it a prerequisite of Autobot high commanders to be self-sacrificing to the point of their own utter misery?! No, wait. It must not be since Red’s an officer!”

“I promised, and they’re in love with each other. You know they’ve been exclusive for longer than the vorn and a half we’ve been on this planet. It’s different for them.” And Prowl was making excuses again. Primus, why? He knew it wouldn’t be different. He knew how they, mostly Red Alert, saw the carriers. It just didn’t click for him that Prowl wasn’t carrying the sparkling just to hand the child over to Red Alert.

And Prime _had_ spoken to them. They had apologized, and Inferno had seemed to truly change his perspective, Red Alert was slower, but that was part of his personality. He was not known for absorbing new ideas very quickly if they didn’t increase base security. But they did improve, and Prowl had agreed to carry a sparkling that Red Alert would help create, not doubting for a moment they would love the child as much as he would. Red Alert had been nearly desperate for a sparkling since Starscream’s twins had been born. He’d been so excited when Prowl agreed.

Now it seemed he had forgotten, and gone back to thinking that Prowl would just birth the pod and walk away.

Star was staring at him. “You and Ratchet are in love. Prime and I are. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are. Skyfire and Wheeljack are. Shall I go on? Love is no excuse for objectifying you into nothing more than a means to an end!” He sighed, and nuzzled Prowl. “Before the little one even deactivated, you were hurt by how they treated you in their berth. I was there when you returned. Who turns their lover, the one that just accepted their nanites and spark to create a new life, from their berth the moment the deed is done?”

Prowl bit his tongue, trying to focus on that physical pain instead of the ache in his spark. Red Alert and Inferno were not inherently cruel. He didn’t believe then, and he didn’t believe now, that they had acted maliciously. It had just been-

“They were colder and more callous to you than anyone in this settlement has been to anyone else,” Starscream continued. “Decepticons included.”

“They are expecting me to spark for them,” Prowl said softly. “They will be disappointed.” Again.

“Neither of their names are on the list,” Star repeated, speaking slowly. “They did not request to spark this time. Have they even bothered talking _to_ you about it lately?” They had not, Prowl realized. Star paused a moment, fingers working in easy, gentle circles between Prowl’s doorwings. “Choose Mirage,” Star said in a decisive tone.

“Why Mirage? I do like the mech, but we’ve never been together. We don’t really spend much time with each other. Not as much as others.”

Star grinned. “Mirage changed overnight when he learned about the carriers. Didn’t you notice?” Prowl frowned, but Star went on before he could comment. “One day he was cool and polite, then Prime debriefed everyone on reproduction, and the next day he was… different. Still polite, still reserved, but… different. Even to me.” One shoulder hunched up for a brief, lazy shrug. His voice took on a low, soft quality. “He’ll cherish you, Prowl. He’ll treat you like you should be. Like all of us should be.”

“We don’t deserve special treatment due to our carrier status. I don’t want to be treated differently because of it.”

Star snorted. “I don’t mean any sort of extra privileges! I don’t want to be revered or put on a pedestal. But we _are_ handing them our bodies, our sparks! That’s deserving of respect. Then it’s up to us to feed the hatchlings for twenty or so years? We’re doing a lot for our people. Yes, I know we agreed it’s an honor and duty given the circumstances, but some genuine affection and real respect for us for doing it wouldn’t be misplaced.”

“They are giving their bodies and sparks back,” Prowl replied. “They love the sparklings as much as we do. Have you seen Perceptor with Gauge? Have you watched Sunstreaker play with Sunburst? Even those that did not have a hand in creating adore them. Love and cherish them.”

Star sighed, pulling Prowl closer. “And how does Perceptor treat Ratchet? How does he treat you when he joins you and Ratchet in your berth? Better yet, how do the two of you treat him or any of your other lovers? Do you ignore them even as they pleasure you?”

Prowl exhaled heavily, knowing he was defeated, but, “I promised. They were so hurt, so disappointed when I lost him.”

“Yes, so upset that Red Alert asked you what you did to cause it, and Inferno had to pack him off before Ratchet dismantled him. Neither even offered you an _in_ sincere word of comfort.” Prowl shut his optics and bit his tongue again, fighting back the pain and hurt. It had stung. He’d known it was his fault, but to have it thrown in his face that way, then, as it was happening?

Star stroked the tip of his nose down the slope of Prowl’s. “Want to hear a secret?” he asked, voice almost childlike.

The sound that escaped Prowl was something between a choked back sob and a giggle. He opened his optics, blinking a few times, and raised an optic ridge. “Oh, by all means.” Hadn’t there been a time when Star’s mercurial moods had been jarring?

Star leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Trying to look into his optics at such a close range fritzed his vision, so Prowl shut his, sighing as soft lips brushed over his own in a there and gone again kiss. “I don’t think I ever did anything in my life that was harder than standing there, trying to be strong for you as Ratchet took the little one from beside your spark. I managed it by focusing on all the slow, tortuous ways I could shred Red Alert. It should have been him there trying not to cry, holding your hands. It should have been Inferno, not Perceptor, helping to hold you still through the pain, and kissing your face and helm and telling you sweet lies about how the pain would stop, that you’d be all right soon.”

Hot tears were slipping free from Prowl’s optics.

“You lost _your_ baby, not Red’s.” Star paused, kissing Prowl’s face gently, and squeezing him in his arms. “And then I left the twins with Ironhide, and sobbed all over Prime until I was so exhausted my systems forced me into recharge.” Star tucked Prowl’s head under his own, and whispered by his audial, “And the secret? Optimus cried too. Ratchet, Perceptor, Skyfire, Bluestreak, Hound, _Barricade_. We _all_ wept for _you_. For _your_ pain.”

Nodding, speaking through the unstoppable tears, Prowl said, “It was so hard. I wanted to just forget, but everyone kept coming to see me, hug me.” He gasped, clutching hard at Star. “I thought it was over! It hurts again so much, but I want a sparkling! How did you manage to survive the loss of so many?” Oh, and wasn’t that a cruel thing to ask! “When does the pain stop?” That wasn’t any better of a question. Prowl heaved a sigh. Forty-two years and he was still handling the situation abysmally.

Star nuzzled Prowl’s cheek with his own. “Never,” he whispered, and Prowl felt a drop splash down onto his face. “It will ease. It will become more tolerable, but every time you consider carrying, it’s all going to come back. Fresh and burning cold.”

A light went on in Prowl’s mind, and he pulled back. “It wasn’t because of the twins that you decided to wait last time.”

Star shook his head, a soft smile on his lips despite the pale tears. “But it was much easier to just say the twins still wore me out.” He shrugged a little. “Optimus knew.”

“I wondered why he suddenly thought he was too busy to carry then.”

Star’s smile grew. “Autobots and your fluffy soft sparks. He didn’t want to force a sparkling on me before I was ready. Even one that would not be mine.”

“He wouldn’t be Prime if he were any other way,” Prowl said, and found he was smiling slightly too. It faded fast as his guilt returned. “It was my fault. I accept that, but-”

“But nothing! We didn’t know! Pits, I was on top of The Fallen, sitting in his lap!”

“But it _is_ logical to deduce that my _open_ spark chamber would not contain all the needed material when leaning directly over Red Alert that way.”

An optic ridge arched up sharply, and Star shook his head. “When was the last time you were thinking _logically_ while interfacing? Better than that. Overloading.”

“It should have occurred to me beforehand. Instead I insisted on my preferred position.”

“Then they should have realized too. Besides. It’s not hard to get you on your back. Watch.” Star’s hands were suddenly gripping Prowl’s upper arms. He was pulled up, and had just enough time to flick his doorwings out to the sides before Star tossed him down on his back and draped himself over Prowl’s chest with a smug grin. “See how simple that was. And I maintain we did not know. There is a field there, and since I was technically on top when conception occurred, why would we think it could be wrong?”

“Ratchet did suggest that spillover could have been part of the mess of your internals,” Prowl reminded.

“Sure. After the little one passed, and he was able to connect the dots of your spillover, and the lack of enough material to maintain him.” Star stared at him for a moment. “Choose Mirage. He’s put his name on the list both times. I’d take him myself if I hadn’t already been discussing this with Blurr for so many years.” He flashed another grin. “Pits, choose Barricade. At least we’d be able to guess the hatchling’s future colors.”

Prowl chuckled, and accepted the attempt to cheer him for what it was.

Star dipped his head down and kissed him. “You should choose someone, anyone that is on the list. Red Alert can learn his lesson this time, and add his name to the next list. And that list _is_ public. The others will be upset if you pick Red, especially after how he behaved last time. Or did I somehow manage to miss him coming to you, and giving you those hugs, and asking stupid questions like, ‘How are you doing?’.”

Prowl sighed, and relaxed under Star, letting the next kiss deepen. He nodded a little, and wrapped his arms around Star’s waist. He had needed this debate. No one, not even Ratchet, was as plainspoken as Star, so willing to challenge his opinions. He was also right. It was, of course, Prowl’s choice, and he did not want to choose Red Alert again. The entire experience had left him feeling as though he were on the outside. A third wheel watching bondmates make love when he shouldn’t have been.

No. Not again.

Star purred, fingers wandering under armor to brush sensitive wires, and Prowl smiled into their kiss.

The door opened, and Star leaned up to look.

Prime grinned. “Am I interrupting? I can come back later.”

“You could join in,” Star suggested.

Prowl chuckled, and pushed at Star’s shoulders. “No, I need to go.” Star looked down, and Prowl offered him a grateful smile. “I need to talk to Mirage.”

Star smiled, and kissed him once more, waiting until Prowl was at the door before purring, “Tell Mirage I said ‘ _Hello_ ’.”

Prowl snickered, gave Prime a nod of acknowledgment when a large blue hand squeezed his shoulder, and left. He opened a comm channel to Mirage, and smiled at the completely out of character chortle of delight he received in response to his announcement.

~ | ~

Megatron stared at the blue and green planet haloed by the Sun behind it, and frowned. One hundred and twenty-five of its years had passed since he last looked at it, and he’d believed he never would again.

He noted the long-range satellites. Recognized the Cybertronian technology. He would be noticed soon, and already would have been had he been in his alternate mode and actually using his thrusters. Prime had this planet well defended. He was sure his sensors could pick up the defense grid weapons if he wanted to expend the precious energy to scan for them.

Unfortunately, he had none to spare. One short message to Optimus, and then controlling their descent was all he had the reserves for.

He looked at the mech in his arms. His most loyal, steadfast servant. Soundwave was unconscious again, his arms tucked between their bodies, his legs pinned close by Megatron’s own. He cradled Soundwave against his body, but there was no more shared warmth. Megatron simply did not have the energy to run his own systems hotter to compensate for Soundwave. Not if he wanted to give them this last chance at survival.

Megatron allowed himself another moment as he drifted closer to the satellite. When last he’d spoken to Optimus it had been… easier. He was handing over Starscream. He had asked, but had Prime denied him, it wouldn’t have mattered… so much. So the seeker’s sparkling would have starved to death like the others. Tragic that little ones died, but back then the desire to help Starscream had been nowhere near as urgent as his need to save himself and Soundwave was now.

Now, he would be begging for his life to be spared. His mouth twisted in distaste.

He was within range now. He would piggyback the signal through the satellites, speak to Optimus. It would be sloppy, completely detectable, but there was absolutely no way for Soundwave to do it. Megatron wasn’t even sure Soundwave was capable of waking at this point.

With a frown, he locked onto the satellite and sent the signal. Optimus’ surprised voice almost made it worth it.

“ _Megatron!_ ”

“ _Prime._ ” As much as he’d like to play word games, he didn’t have the time. “ _I request permission to land._ ”

There was silence on the other end of the communication long enough to make Megatron wonder if he’d somehow lost the signal. Finally Prime responded. “ _Why?_ ” Incredulousness and suspicion were both clear in his voice, and Megatron’s frown deepened.

“ _Because Soundwave and I have no other choice._ ”

Another silence, though not so lengthy as the last. “ _Just the two of you?_ ”

“ _The others are dead._ ” The few Decepticons that had stayed or found Megatron after the end of the war had all long since deactivated. Or drifted off to deactivate alone.

Megatron could hear a sigh from Prime, and spoke again. “ _We’re crossing into your defense grid now. Allow me to land, or destroy us._ ” He paused, pride and the need to convince Prime to let him land warring for a moment. “ _There is no turning back. Soundwave is unconscious, and I do not have the fuel to go elsewhere._ ”

“ _I have you on our sensors._ ” Optimus was quiet again for a moment. “ _You will come to these coordinates. You will not deviate. Any funny business and I’ll blow you out of the skies. Understood?_ ”

“ _Impressive, Prime. You almost sound like you mean it._ ”

“ _Megatron…_ ”

“ _Relax, Optimus. I don’t have the fuel to deviate. I will, however, have to freefall into the atmosphere. Soundwave can’t transform._ ”

“ _How bad is he?_ ”

Megatron looked down at the mech tucked tight against him. “ _Have your medic ready. Megatron out._ ” He cut the communication, and gave a light burst of power from this thrusters. Once the planet’s gravity caught them, it would be a simple matter of directing their fall.

Less than a cycle later, Megatron was reevaluating his assessment. He rolled to his back, taking the heat of their slow reentry, and trying to keep Soundwave’s thin plating from further damage. More than a vorn ago Soundwave had reverted to his original model. He wasn’t nearly as space-worthy, but he used far less energy without all the sensor panels collecting data. They had been on a planet for a few stellar cycles then. A promising planet, until its triple stars were eclipsed. He’d lost four of the smaller mechs before anyone even knew something was wrong. Two more were killed before the surviving Decepticons were able to break free, and escape into space.

Megatron shook off those thoughts and focused on his fall. He was off course.

Cursing internally, he let go of Soundwave long enough to transform all but his arms. A quick burst, and he reached out, catching Soundwave’s body under his arms, and pulling the limp mech in close to his underbelly.

Megatron was able to glide much of the way, but he was losing altitude too fast. Warnings and alerts flashed incessantly, the most troublesome his low energy levels. He transformed again, before he was unable to, and twisted until he had his feet under him, using his thrusters to slow their fall and direct them at more of an angle. Below but ahead, he could see the island where Prime’s city stood gleaming in the morning sun. Directly below Megatron was the ocean, and his inertia was failing, soon he would be falling straight down again.

As the water loomed closer, he rolled again, arms banding tight around Soundwave, legs twisting together. Megatron tipped his head back to look and engaged his thrusters one last time, burning the last of his fuel. Hopefully they’d skip across the water far enough to cross the drop-off, and he could drag them both up to the beach.

Out of time, Megaton curved his back, hoping it would keep them from flipping and tumbling. The first skip was successful, as was the second. The third was stopped by a wave. The force of the blow stunned him, sent him tumbling as he’d feared. Soundwave flew from his grasp, and the water churned over his head. Megatron managed to get his vents closed, but another jarring impact drove the last of consciousness from him.

~ | ~

“ _I’m sorry. I just thought I heard you say to meet you outside to repair Megatron and Soundwave?_ ”

“ _Ratchet._ ”

Prime’s warning tone only caused Ratchet to snort and cock an optic ridge.

“What?” Skyfire asked.

Ratchet glanced down and grinned. The large mech was lying on his back, lower legs propped up on the berth, Wheeljack on his chest purring contently and tracing lines on the white plating. “Optimus says Megatron and Soundwave are on their way, and I am needed because Soundwave is seriously damaged, and Megatron is so low on fuel that landing here was his only option.”

Beside Ratchet, Prowl stiffened, his hand coming up to his chest, resting over his spark. “Megatron here? Now?”

Ratchet nodded while Skyfire gently nudged Wheeljack off him and stood.

Wheeljack frowned and climbed to his feet too. “Well, I guess we better go see. Not like Prime’s much given ta pranks. Well, not of this nature.”

Prowl scowled, optics narrowing in the way Ratchet knew meant he did not like what he was hearing. A moment later he stood, and abruptly headed for the door. “Red Alert is no happier than you, Ratchet.” He keyed the door open, and motioned them to follow him. “In fact, he sounds quite distraught.”

Ratchet sighed. “Alright. Go calm him down, I’ll go out and meet Optimus.” He glanced back as Skyfire and Wheeljack followed.

Wheeljack shrugged. “I can help.”

“As can I. Brute force alone if need be,” Skyfire said.

When they arrived at the beach, Ratchet saw that nearly everyone was present. In fact the only mechs missing were the sparkling sitters. Everyone else was watching the speeding silver spot in the sky rush closer.

Ratchet stepped up next to Optimus, opening a private comm. “ _What the slag were you thinking? What about the sparklings?_ ”

“I’m thinking that I will not take the life of even one more Cybertronian if I don’t absolutely need to.” Prime turned, optics narrow, face pinched with a dozen emotions. “He said the others are all dead. It’s just him and Soundwave, and Soundwave is barely funct-”

A shout rang out, cutting Prime off. Ratchet looked just in time to see Megatron do an amazing impression of a skipped stone before hitting a wave. Soundwave flew from Megatron’s grasp, tumbling like a ragdoll through the air.

Ratchet kept his optics on Soundwave, running at an angle, guessing at where the Decepticon would stop. He splashed into the ocean, hearing as someone followed. The water was waist deep on him as he reached Soundwave. Blue and red appeared beside Ratchet, and Prime’s arms were diving into the water with his own, both of them scrambling to grab Soundwave. Optimus hauled him up, and Ratchet swore.

“His vents!” Ratchet watched water pour out of Soundwave’s mouth, nose, and lateral helm vents. “His fragging vents were open!” He turned, pulling at Prime’s upper arm, optics on Soundwave, a preliminary scan already running, and bringing more curses. “Why were his fragging vents open?! Get him to the medbay. Now!”

Ratchet glanced down the beach where Skyfire carried Megatron, Ironhide’s cannons charged and ready, but Megatron looked limp and unconscious. As Optimus began to run, Ratchet followed, Perceptor on his heels.

He was shouting instructions before the medbay doors even slid shut. “Optimus, that table! Perceptor! Get me suction, then hook him up to the spark monitor.” Ratchet grabbed a systems’ scanner, one that could look much deeper than even his own were capable of, and jacked into Soundwave’s medical ports.

Perceptor appeared across the table, passing Ratchet the vacuum pump, and prying Soundwave’s chest plates open. They had no time to be gentle, and it took Ratchet a moment to recognize that the bellowing was not his own.

“The berth behind me, Skyfire,” he shouted.

“What the slag are you doing to him? I demand an answer! We came with your Prime’s permission! I will _not_ tolerate you harming him!”

Ratchet spun away from Soundwave and back, throwing the snatched up hypo to Skyfire while calling his name. “Shut that fragger up! Optimus, Hide, hold him down! Jack, I need you over here!” Megatron’s roar was staticky, and were he any other mech in the universe, Ratchet would have sworn panicked.

He shoved the suction hose into Wheeljack’s hands and ignored Megatron’s fading threats, concentrating solely on Soundwave, and cursing more.

“Ratchet,” Perceptor began, voice hushed, yet still strained.

“Keep it pulsing, Percy,” Ratchet said, optics scanning the data scrolling quickly by. His conscience was at war with his programming. Eight carriers, and all of them newly sparked. What the slag had Optimus been thinking?

Ratchet watched the information on Soundwave’s systems. He was, as the humans would say, at Death’s door. It would be so easy to let him fade. His hands dove into internals. Wheeljack was busy with Soundwave’s respiratory system and flooded vents, Perceptor fighting to keep the energy going to the Decepticon’s spark equalized, keep his spark pulsing, faint though it was. It would take nothing for Ratchet to ignore that leak there. It was practically hidden, and there was no guarantee he could save Soundwave at this point anyway. They’d never blame him if he _accidentally_ didn’t patch the hole. But then it was done.

Ratchet moved systematically through Soundwave’s body, sealing leaks, fixing broken or frayed connections, monitoring as Wheeljack helped Perceptor set up an energon drip. They’d had enough depleted Decepticons come to them to know to start slow. Ratchet could practically hear their thoughts. No one had been this bad since Star had arrived.

He’d nearly lost Star on the operating table. No one would blame him if he lost Soundwave.

But despite his thoughts, Ratchet repaired every bit of damage to the best of his abilities. He was a medic. Medics repaired. He took up arms in defense of the lives he had already saved dozens of times, but he had never done well after making a kill.

Never.

And letting Soundwave die was tantamount to killing him.

“Megatron’s stable, and will remain unconscious as long as you want him to, Ratchet,” Skyfire said from somewhere behind him.

Ratchet nodded in acknowledgement, and kept working.

Hours later, Ratchet finally accepted the cloth from Wheeljack to wipe the energon blood from his hands, and leaned back against a counter. He looked at the others. Ironhide remained, his optics locked on Megatron, the low hum of his charged cannons a continuous sound from the moment he’d entered the medbay despite the fact they were not pointed at anyone right now. Optimus stood stoic, but his mouth was pinched in that way that meant he was worried and didn’t actually know what to do next. Skyfire stood calmly to the side, close to Megatron and idly watching his status monitor with Wheeljack standing next to him cleaning tools. Perceptor fidgeted with Soundwave’s monitor, staring down at his spark.

Ratchet moved over to Megatron and looked over Skyfire’s work, not missing the half-suppressed grin the larger mech gave him. “Megatron will survive,” Ratchet said. Prime nodded. “I’m not sure about Soundwave. He’s fragged. He’s worse than Star was when he got here as far as his systems are concerned. Harder to tell is whether he’ll gutter out, or wake up when his body recovers enough.”

“The stress to his spark was heavy,” Perceptor added. “Also.” He pointed into Soundwave’s chest. “He’s a carrier.”

Ratchet flinched. “What?!” He was leaning over Soundwave in an instant. He hadn’t looked. He’d trusted Perceptor to alert him had any spark or processor issues arose so he could focus. But there it was. The valve at the bottom of Soundwave’s spark casing. “Primus on a pogo stick!”

“How did he escape the Fallen?” Prime asked.

Wheeljack stepped forward too, to look, and answered with a shrug. “Luck? He was in space a lot, right?”

“Ratchet-” Prime began.

“He lives or dies by fate now,” Ratchet said, and looked up, trying to hide the guilt from his earlier thoughts of letting Soundwave die. “Honestly, Optimus. I can’t call this one either way.” His programming warred with his spark. He hated this mech. Breeder or not did not even factor in for him. Soundwave was loyal to Megatron, and a genuine threat to every mech and human in the city, on the _planet_. But he was a healer, and Ratchet would _not_ let Soundwave die without fighting his damndest to save him.

With an angry huff, he threw the cloth at the sink. “Keep them both sedated.” Without waiting for a response he stormed out of the medbay, comming Prowl to meet him at the washracks as he went. Let the others figure out a rotation. It’s not like he’d be able to stay away for long. But while he could, he was going to see his mate and creation, have a cube, and maybe a nap. If he got _really_ lucky, he’d get lucky too, before he was summoned or couldn’t resist the urge to return to his patients’ sides any longer.

~ | ~

Jazz stared at the two unconscious mechs, and fingered the near-invisible scar from being torn apart. The last week had been insanity realized. Everyone was freaking out, not the least among them the former Decepticons.

Star’s long-dormant screech was becoming commonplace as he harped on Optimus to deactivate Megatron and Soundwave _now_. Jazz could hear the fear in his voice. Could see the stark terror in his optics. Noticed the way Star would clutch Thunder and Sky tighter. The way he would subconsciously cover his spark whenever Megatron was brought up. And more. Jazz had caught the seeker watching his twins play on more than one occasion, lips pressed into a thin line, optics pale, hugging something to his chest to protect the unborn spark incubating next to his own.

And he wasn’t the only one. Bumblebee had argued adamantly against Jazz being on the guard rotation, citing their unborn as reason enough not to let any carrier anywhere near Megatron.

It didn’t help that Megatron had already killed him once.

But Bumblebee was not Jazz’s mate, he was his subordinate, and Jazz was not alone in here. He glanced over at Sunstreaker. Old narrow-optics glare in place, Sunstreaker was all business. Gone was the introverted, but mellow artist that had come out in the last vorn and a half. Jazz had not seen him like this in ages, and it made him sad.

Long ago he’d watched Sunstreaker’s color fade under the acid rain as the color nanites were killed and stripped from his plating. He hadn’t flinched, hadn’t shifted position. He’d remained at his post, optics narrow and bright and scanning everything he could see with cold deliberation.

That was the Sunstreaker Jazz was seeing now. He had no doubt that if Megatron or Soundwave shifted in their forced recharge, Sunstreaker would have a blaster in his hands and charged before Jazz could process it.

And he could process a lot rather fast.

They’d been at peace for so long, and no one expected this. Prime was catching hell at every turn, but standing firm in his resolve that Megatron and Soundwave were sparks worth saving, and he would not be swayed. But Jazz wanted to weep for seeing the cold killer in Sunstreaker show his dark, angry face again.

It was a slagging mess, and Jazz couldn’t help the resentment he felt. Things were so good. It’d taken a while, but he had come to trust the peace, the former Decepticons. 

It’d taken Ratchet and the others forty years to rebuild him, and even then no one had been sure the Allspark fragment used to awaken Jetfire would even bring Jazz back. It had worked, of course, though recovery had been slow.

Slow and difficult, and he’d come back changed. He was still his Jazzy self, but now he appreciated more. All those things he had played at before, were now seriously pursued. Being a creator was one of them.

He hadn’t been a carrier before coming back. He knew that beyond all doubt. It threw into question whether Optimus had been a carrier before his resurrection, and when Jazz mentioned it, Ratchet had rushed to check Megatron.

Sure enough, the Slagmaker had the valve at the bottom of his spark chamber. He, of all mechs, was capable of creating life. Theory proven. You die and the Allspark brings you back, and you are capable of breeding. Optimus was absolutely sure Megatron was not a carrier before. He’d seen his spark himself.

Jazz flinched when Sunstreaker’s hand clasped his own, only just noticing he was rubbing at his chest plates.

“Bee had a good point.”

Jazz shook his head and dropped his hands to his sides. “They’re out. Sounders ain’t gonna be wakin’ anytime soon, even if Ratch wasn’t dopin’ him up.”

Sunstreaker dipped his chin in a brief nod, his optics never having left their charges. “No way is Sides coming in here.”

“That’s b‘tween the two o’ you.”

“You guys are already doing your part for our people. Guard duty should be left to the ones without the precious cargo on board.”

“Knock it off, Sunny. I ain’t changin’ my mind about this. Star’s got his reasons to stay away. Me,” he paused a moment, optics boring into Megatron, “I gotta face this.” He turned a grin at the still warrior. “Besides. You don’t think Prime’s just gonna stay away, do ya?”

“He would if I had my way.”

“Ratch can’t stay away either.”

“He would if I had my way,” Sunstreaker repeated, voice a malicious growl.

“Gettin’ another two carriers outta the deal,” Jazz offered.

Sunstreaker finally looked away only to turn back after giving Jazz his best imitation of Prowl’s ‘I-am-not-amused’ look. “Like _anyone_ wants these two breeding. Bad enough they exist.”

Jazz dropped it then, going back to the silent watchfulness. Sunstreaker’s opinion was the popular one, and though Jazz enjoyed playing devil’s advocate, he too, could barely understand why Optimus wanted Megatron and Soundwave kept alive. They wouldn’t be used as breeders even if there was a mech or two willing to bed them. In fact, Optimus had made it an order that neither even be told they could carry, and all the hatchlings were being kept well away from the medbay. The play schedule was even being adjusted so they would be able to hide the little ones away when Megatron and Soundwave were up and about.

Jazz didn’t like that either. Instead of happily getting to show off his newborn when he came, he and all the others were going to have to keep them closeted away, lest Megatron decide to eat them.

He stared at the two unconscious mechs, thoughts circling around again about how much would need changed. How much things already had.

~ | ~

Megatron sat and stared at the mech on the other medical berth. Soundwave never fully woke, his body still too busy with repairs to let him surface from the trap of his mind, but at least they were no longer being drugged.

Megatron had woken the day before to learn he’d been unconscious for two weeks. Held in that state by the medic’s concoctions rather than his injuries and low fuel levels.

At least he was conscious now. Soundwave, on the other hand, was a source of… concern. Even Prime’s miracle-working medic was unsure how well, or _if_ Soundwave would recover.

Most unsettling were the nightmares. The cause was unknown, and nothing short of sedating Soundwave worked to calm him, which was something the medic didn’t want to do every time Soundwave began to thrash and whimper.

Last night Megatron, in a fit of desperation and wanting to keep Soundwave from harming himself, had hurried over and wrapped his communications officer up in his arms. He had begun to speak, softly so the monitoring devices wouldn’t pick his words up, and Soundwave had relaxed back into the void he existed in.

By the time the medic had arrived, Megatron was embarrassingly wrapped around Soundwave, but had decided to play it off. After all, Soundwave had earned some small measure of comfort for all his loyalty. Megatron would be a poor excuse of a leader if he would not grant one such as Soundwave what he could.

Sap-sparked fool of an Autobot had only raised his optic ridges in surprise to see Megatron holding his communications officer, and said, ‘Good, I won’t need to sedate him,’ then left.

Every few hours, whenever Soundwave’s body would shake and his head toss with whatever plagued his processors, Megatron would go and hold him, speak quietly about whatever came to his mind.

Well, the things that wouldn’t get him launched right back out into space.

The lock beeped as the code was entered outside, and the door slid to the side to reveal Prime. Megatron raised his chin in habitual challenge, and sat a little straighter.

“Greetings, brother,” Megatron said, giving Prime a slight smirk. “You’re looking rather… serious today.”

Prime crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his optics. “You no longer have the right to call me ‘brother’. In fact, you no longer have the right to anything but the energon and maintenance required to keep you alive.”

Megatron’s left optic ridge popped up. “You’re also sounding far less soft-sparked than usual.”

A low rumble of sound came from Prime, his optics flaring slightly for a moment. “It is my ‘soft spark’ you owe your life to. There isn’t another single voice in this city, on this planet, calling for your life to be spared.”

“And yet the Autobots will obey their Prime.”

“So will the former Decepticons,” Prime said, and Megatron felt both of his optic ridges rise.

“There are Decepticons here?”

Prime dipped his chin in a nod. “ _Former_ Decepticons.” He shifted one shoulder forward, optics never leaving Megatron’s face, but head tipping to indicate his shoulder. “We are Cybertronians. There are no more factions or faction symbols.”

Megatron’s optics widened as he realized that, yes, Prime’s Autobot emblem was gone. He searched his entire frame, what he could see without asking Prime to turn for him, and saw no indication of a faction symbol. In fact… “You’ve reclaimed your original colors.”

Prime gave him a little smirk. “The flames were fun for a while.” His expression shifted back to dire seriousness again. “I’ve come to inform you of how things will be. You and Soundwave will remain locked in this room until you are each cleared by Ratchet, after which, you will be moved to shared quarters in the residential building.”

“Where we shall remain your prisoners indefinitely.” Megatron snorted. He could bide his time, regain his strength, Soundwave his.

“Where you will recharge and refuel, and be allowed out, but supervised, at very specific times so everyone can become accustomed to your presence,” Prime corrected.

Megatron let a slow smile curl across his lips. “I’m impressed, brother. You’re usually such a trusting little fool.”

Prime’s face was suddenly less than a hand’s breadth from his own, the angry growl vibrating the air between them. “I am not your brother. You gave up the right to call me such when you gave up your honor, when you betrayed our people, when you bowed to The Fallen and drove us to the brink of extinction.” Prime tipped even closer, so all Megatron could see of him was the rage-white of his optics, Prime’s voice a low and dangerous growl that genuinely gave Megatron pause, the tone and the formal words. “You were once Lord High Protector, Megatron, an office the Primes have gratefully called Brother, an honorary title for the mech that puts Cybertron and its people ahead of his own wishes and desires. A mech that would lay down his life, and issue the order for others to do so in defense of our home, and people. But _you_ , Megatron, are a disgrace to the title. You dishonor us all with your betrayal. You are _no longer_ Lord High Protector. You have no rank, no authority, nothing but what I give you, and that you will earn. You will _instantly_ obey any order given to you by me or my officers. You will not, under any circumstances, try to assume any control over the former Decepticons, and you will follow your given schedule to the letter.”

Prime snarled, and Megatron resisted the entirely foreign urge to lean back. “You will _never_ call me ‘brother’ again. Do not give me _any_ reason to regret sparing your life. We are too few to waste lives, but I will crush your spark in my bare hands before I let you ruin what we’ve built. Do you understand?”

Megatron’s face heated slightly when all he could do was give a short nod, images of Prime holding The Fallen’s spark in his hand before crushing it replaying in a nightmarish loop.

Prime stepped back, the blue returning by degrees to his optics. “I won’t ask you to swear fealty, but I will accept it if you can ever do so sincerely.”

Megatron rose, angry, humiliated, ready to fight despite having no weapons and being in a locked room with a mech that he was sure really _would_ kill him. _Could_ kill him.

The tension was shattered by a sudden rush of movement and faint cry from the second berth. Megatron hurried to Soundwave’s side, trying to get to him before Prime did. His hold was both possessive and protective as he wrapped his arms around Soundwave’s to stop the thrashing, holding him tight to his chest.

“Ratchet is coming,” Prime said softly, reaching out despite Megatron’s rumbling growl, and stroking softly over Soundwave’s helm.

“The medic is unneeded.”

Prime’s optics narrowed. “The medic will decide for himself.”

They were still glaring at each other when Ratchet entered.

~ | ~

“He could murder us all in our sleep, and he'd start with _you_ , Optimus! And after we are all dead, what do you think would happen to our hatchlings?”

Starscream’s voice rose high, sharp, and nearly hysterical. Prime sighed, and held up his hand for silence. The words were not new, and he was quite honestly tired of hearing them. Within his own spark chamber grew a sparkling as well, and he was well aware of the dangers. To them all.

“What would you have me do, Star? Kill them now? Murder them in their recharge, and turn my back on everything I have always believed in?” Prime asked, voice as calm and even as he could make it despite the weariness being clearly audible.

“It’s _Megatron_ and _Soundwave_!” Star protested, and Prime felt his spark sink to hear the waver in his bonded’s voice that spoke of how close to tears he was.

As gently as he could, Optimus said, “And you are Starscream.”

“Not anymore!”

“But you were.” Optimus gripped Star’s shoulders and waited until he looked up and met his gaze. “Should I have killed you instead of give you a chance?”

“They are not me,” Star whispered. He was shaking, and pale pink energon tears quavered, ready to fall, along the bottom rim of his optics.

“And what of Barricade? Or Drag Strip? Or Breakdown? Should I have killed them instead of offering them sanctuary here?”

The tears fell when Star shook his head, hand slashing out to the side, fingers splayed in a negating gesture. “They are _nothing_ compared to Megatron or Soundwave. _Bumblebee_ slagged Barricade! Any number of the mechs here could take Breakdown or Drag Strip single-handed. They arrived on this planet nearly _broken_ after the war. And _I_ came to save the lives of my sparklings! Like it or not, I came here believing I would be a hostage to my carrier status! Megatron has no life to protect but his own. Soundwave does _nothing_ but obey Megatron.”

Prime shook his head. “ _Every_ spark is precious, Star.”

Star stepped back out of Optimus’ hold, visibly trying to rein his emotions in. Failing that, he stood stiffly, hands fisted at his side and looking to the side at the floor, tears running down his face. “Then I request permission to take Thunder and Sky to the Boulder Dam facility.”

“Denied. That is a _human_ research installation, not our base. Not to mention, you’re due to birth in less than a week, and will need to be near the tank for your new sparkling.”

Optimus stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Star as he broke down the rest of the way, his fear palpable. “They’re going to kill us all,” he sobbed.

Prime held his bonded close, and kissed his helm. “I will never allow that.”

“You won’t be able to stop them!”

Optimus bit back a snort. Neither Megatron nor Soundwave should be underestimated, but it wasn’t like they weren’t being careful. “They are unarmed. We are about to walk into the common room for a meeting to inform all mechs to shoot first, radio for backup while firing, and get the frag away if Megatron or Soundwave make even the slightest aggressive move toward them or a hatchling.”

He pulled back a little, gripping Star’s shoulders once again, and looking him in the optics. “I’m not changing my mind on this. These are two of our people. Two more sparks, and more, they are both capable of carrying. All morality aside, we’re still facing extinction here. One catastrophic event, and that’s it for our entire race.”

“All the more reason to take the hatchlings elsewhere!”

Prime shut his optics and struggled for patience. “Star.”

“I’m afraid,” Star whispered near inaudibly.

“I know. And so am I, but I will not give on this. They contacted us, and begged our assistance when at Death’s door. I _have_ to give them a chance.” Optimus dipped his head down, kissing away the tears from Star’s face. “Just give them a chance. They might surprise you.”

“With a knife in the back.”

Optimus smiled, pulling back. Star was by no means content, but if he could use that particular tone, it at least meant that the argument was over. “I love you. And I love our children. Trust me to protect our people.”

“Do I have a choice?” Star asked as they turned toward the common room doors.

“Of course you do. You may choose not to trust me, and then when I turn out to be right, I get to say ‘I told you so’.” Optimus smiled, but it dropped away as his hand hovered over the keypad. He braced himself for the coming meeting. He was going to have to say it all over again. Multiple times.

Star slipped his hand into Optimus’ free hand, and said, “We’ll see. Well, hurry up. Let’s go calm the panicked villagers.”

Prime cycled his vents, and keyed open the common room. The swell of voices was almost deafening.

At least Star was done arguing with him. 

~ | ~

For what he was told was days, he had been in and out of consciousness, caught in a surreal haze of waking and dreaming without feeling the boundary when he crossed it.

He struggled, blinking and holding the thermal blanket around his shoulders as Ratchet talked. Nothing felt real except the cold.

“There really isn’t much else I can do for you, and getting up to move around and actually _see_ the real world again will be the best help.”

“I still feel cold,” Soundwave said. That bothered him the most. He had come to hate the icy vacuum of space without his special plating. He would have dropped into stasis lock long ago if not for Megatron. Of course, he would have dropped into stasis lock long ago had he kept the plating.

Ratchet shook his helm. “Your thermo regulator is working fine. Keeping you in here isn’t going to help the psychosomatic response you’re facing now. You need to move. Walk around. Get your fluids pumping through your body again. You’ve been in here for about three weeks just lying around. There’s honestly nothing more I can do for you but monitor your progress. Just take it easy, recharge whenever you can, and enjoy the warm sunshine during your free time.”

Soundwave nodded, huddling into his blanket. He did not wish to leave the medbay. It was foolishly reticent of him, but he knew what awaited him on the other side of that door. Megatron visited when allowed, and the Autobots had not exactly welcomed them with open arms. Not that he had expected it. Nor had he expected any of the former Decepticons they had been told of to visit him in the medbay. He had cultivated his unapproachable persona very carefully over the vorn. But they had not gone to Megatron either. Not to report, not to simply see him. Soundwave had asked after Starscream out of curiosity. The seeker was alive, but when the sparkling he had been carrying when Megatron sent him to the Autobots was mentioned, Ratchet chased Megatron out and made Soundwave recharge. He could sense the fear off Ratchet despite the medic’s mental blocks.

It merely drove home the fact that they were completely ostracized from this society, and Soundwave simply did not have the will or energy to even think on what his best course of action should be.

Which was another reason to wish to remain in the medbay a little longer. Megatron fully expected him to get to work investigating just what the Autobots had been doing the past one hundred and twenty-five years to have thrived so well. There was accord with the humans, that much they knew. There was reigning peace between all the mechs here, and a small contingent of human liaisons, who were restricted to an equally small area of the atoll.

Soundwave simply wanted to curl up in his blanket and go back to recharge.

That was not to be, however. The door beeped as the locking code was entered from the outside and Prime strode into the medbay, optics falling instantly to Soundwave before flicking over to Ratchet.

“He’s all yours,” Ratchet said, tapping a stylus on a datapad.

Soundwave could feel the tension, and rose, not wanting to make things even more difficult for himself by angering either of them. Especially Prime. He watched Prime, leery and nervous.

“Let me show you to your new quarters,” Prime said.

Soundwave stepped forward, then realized his still had the blanket wrapped around himself and looked at Ratchet.

The medic smiled, and waved him on. “Keep it for now.”

Soundwave nodded, but pulled the blanket from around his shoulders, folding it into a less obvious square. Their kind did not usually require artificial means to warm or cool themselves. It was a little embarrassing to need it.

Especially for psychosomatic reasons. _He_ should have better control over his mind than this.

Soundwave followed Prime out of the room, into a larger medical area. He was surprised when they continued outside the building, and across a small rectangle of pavement.

“This is the residential building,” Prime said, gesturing to the structure ahead of them. “As you know, you and Megatron have shared quarters on the ground floor. The door will remain locked except when I or Ironhide come to allow you both out. You will be under escort for a while, but it is my hope that we can eventually trust the both of you to behave yourselves.”

Soundwave forced back a shiver as he felt, more than heard the threat behind Prime’s words. “I have no intention of harming anyone.”

“You don’t.”

Soundwave was also able to feel the question regarding Megatron’s intentions, but remained silent.

Prime touched a keypad beside a door, and it slid open. He gestured Soundwave in, and said, “Ironhide will be by in two hours for your morning outing.”

Then the door slid shut, a telltale beep behind him, and Soundwave stared at Megatron for a moment.

“Soundwave.”

“My Lord,” Soundwave responded. He glanced around the room without moving his head, giving the impression he was still looking at Megatron. The room was spartan. Two berths, a couch, a small table between the berths. There was a large window off to one side, but beyond the glass was the same metal that made up the outer walls.

“Prime is taking no chances.”

Soundwave thought Prime was taking _every_ chance, but did not say so.

“Did he tell you that if a mech feels threatened by one of us, they are allowed to shoot us?” Megatron snorts. “His _advice_ was that we use caution so we do not accidentally intimidate anyone. As if I can actually be held responsible for a mech feeling intimidated by me. My mere presence is intimidating.” He paused a moment. “What is that?” Megatron asked, gesturing to the blanket, dropping back onto one of the berths, stretching out his legs, arms behind his head.

Used to Megatron’s ranting shifting as soon as he’d had a chance to get it out of his systems, Soundwave replied, “I remain cold. The medic has ordered me to rest.” Soundwave moved to the other berth at Megatron’s hand flick, and lay down, shaking out the blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders. He shut his optics, exhausted from just that short trip from the medbay. It was becoming harder to block out others’ thoughts again, and there were more mechs in close proximity here.

Soundwave shifted, curling on his side, and forcing himself back into recharge, all too aware of Megatron’s optics on him.

~ | ~

“Get out,” Ratchet said without looking up as Jazz slipped into one of the medbay’s private labs.

“Love ya too, Doc,” Jazz grinned, nodding to both Prime and Blurr as he overrode his armor locks again. “Hey, Star, how ya doin’?”

“Fine,” came the strained reply. Star was face down on a berth, one hand fisted, the other clutching Prime’s free hand tight. Both Prime and Blurr were petting Star’s wings, trying to soothe him.

“Are you in pain?” Ratchet asked, glancing back as he checked the tank levels.

“No, just freaking out.”

Jazz chuckled at Star’s answer and patted the seeker’s helm. “Ya’ll be alright, and so will the sparklet.”

“Is there a reason you’re here, Jazz? Other than for the abuse I plan to heap on you when I’m done setting up this tank?”

“Why, yes, Ratch, there is.” Jazz snickered, shoving a second berth end to end with Star’s and climbing up on it. This time he let his chest plating separate, propping his chin in his hands, feet swinging in the air. “Might wanna set up a second tank though before ya heap that abuse ya mentioned.”

Four sets of optics landed on Jazz and he giggled, leaning his chest up far enough that they could see as his laser core opened and spark light lit the berth under him.

“Oh-wow-two-at-one-time-That’s-pretty-cool-Think-maybe-it’s-a-sign-Maybe-they’ll-be-best-friends-or-maybe-mates-when-they’re-grown-Congrats-Jazz-I-can’t-wait-to-see-him!” Blurr beamed, his hands still massaging Star’s wing.

“You did this on purpose,” Ratchet accused, and immediately set about preparing a second tank. Prime chuckled and resumed his comforting petting of Star, and the medic huffed at him, “Don’t you laugh! You better just wait until they’re done before birthing that pod.”

“Calm down, Ratchet. I was one of the last to conceive. I sincerely doubt today will be the day.” Optimus paused, winking at Jazz. “You however…” he trailed off, and Jazz, Blurr, and even Star laughed.

Ratchet paused, and Jazz could see his smile in the reflection of the ready tank even as the medic snorted. “Smart aft glitch. I can’t believe we’re going to be stuck with another one of you running around.”

Star’s snicker was cut off on a gasp, the seeker letting go of Prime’s hand and pushing himself up. Jazz could see the pod and the tiny sparkling squirming inside it, lit by Star’s spark.

“He’s alive,” Star whispered.

“Of course he is,” Ratchet said. “Just stay there for a minute, I’m almost done. Jazz?”

“Yeah, I’m good, don’t worry.” He stared at the tiny being, awed.

“Oh-Holy-Primus-look-how-tiny-he-is-He’s-perfect-though-Do-you-think-he’ll-have-wings-What-color-do-you-think-he’ll-be-Oh-Star!” Blurr wrapped his arms around Star’s neck and kissed him soundly on the cheek. “He’s-perfect-I-can’t-wait-to-see-what-the-other-little-ones-think-of-their-new-baby-brother!”

Blurr ran on and on, Star nuzzling back in response to the kiss, smiling softly as he watched his new creation.

Jazz jumped a little as Prime’s hand squeezed his shoulder, and looked up. “Your turn. Want me to comm Bee?”

“Nah. I’ll drag him in here later and surprise him.”

Jazz’s comm pinged and he gave Prime a half-grin.

“ _I know things have been tense between the two of you, but he would love to see this. I’m sure of it,_ Prime said.

“ _He’s drivin’ me nuts with all his worryin’. Lemme get through this without him mother-hennin’ me ta death. He can be there when our sparklin’s pod born._ ”

Prime nodded, squeezing Jazz’s shoulder again, then watched as Ratchet carefully took Star’s sparkling to his tank.

“Two months and we’ll have a new baby to fawn over.” Ratchet turned to Jazz. “Well, more than one. Hurry the frag up already, I’m hungry.”

Jazz laughed even as his spark crystal finally retracted. A glance down and he could actually see the slight bulge of the pod as it began to slip free. “Soon I think, Doc.” Jazz glanced up as he caught movement from Star, and reached out to take the seeker’s offered hand.

“The last pull feels _really_ weird,” Star said.

“You can go clean up then stare at your sparkling,” Ratchet said.

Jazz squeezed Star’s hand back, then once again propped his chin in a hands, letting his feet swing while smiling. “Ratch is right, an’ I know ya wanna. Go check out your kid.”

Even after so long of being around Star, it was still weird to see concern and care on Starscream’s face sometimes. Jazz waved him off. “It’s kinda cool.” He looked down as he felt another shift from the sparkling. “Really cool. Meet’cha by the tanks in a few.”

Prime and Blurr helped Star off, and Ratchet propped his hip on the vacated berth, speaking only after they left. “You aren’t worried at all, are you?”

Jazz shook his head, still looking down at the bulge of pod he could see, willing it to plop free so he could see his creation. “Pretty damn excited though. Kinda hopin’ he takes after me for colors. Bee’s a nice yellow, but I like my white and black better.” He flashed a grin up at Ratchet. “Goes with anything, ya know.”

Ratchet chuckled, and then crouched down to get a better look under Jazz. “I can see him. Well, his bottom half anyways.” He looked up, suddenly more serious. “If you suspect anything-”

“I’ll say so,” Jazz said. “Ain’t like our concerns are unfounded here.”

“I know.” Ratchet rose and sat on the berth. “I know, and this room will remain locked down. I’ll know whenever anyone enters, and be spending my days here.”

“Ratch.” Jazz reached out and gripped the medic’s hand. “It’ll be ok.”

Ratchet nodded, then snickered as Jazz twitched when the pod finally came free. “Took ya long enough.”

Jazz snerked, sitting up on his heels and lifting the pod in his hands. “Cute little critter, ain’t he?”

“They all are.”

Jazz cradled his sparkling in his hands for another couple minutes, then handed him over to Ratchet as the door chimed and opened.

Star and Blurr bee-lined for the tank holding their sparkling, and Prime watched indulgently. “Would you like some assistance, Jazz?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” He hopped off the berth, looking back at Ratchet as he reached the door, and chuckling. “Wow. Hard ta leave.”

“Really hard,” Star murmured, his fingers tracing over the glass of the tank.

Jazz was glad Prime had offered to help him clean up. He barely had the patience to rinse off, let alone really clean himself as was needed. Prime chuckled, and teased him, and blocked the exit by simply kneeling in front of Jazz to help him wash.

In the end, Jazz commed Bumblebee, unable to tear himself away again to go find his sparkling’s co-creator for himself.

~ | ~

Sideswipe snickered and pulled Sunburst back from the tank before he could smack it and startle his little brother. “Gentle, baby. Gentle.” He stretched his hand out, illustrating for his sunny-orange hatchling how to touch the tank glass without startling the slag out of the sparkling within.

Sunburst’s hands hit the tank, and the sparkling jumped, little mouth opening in a cry. Sideswipe sighed as Sunburst chirred and chirruped happily at his little brother.

“Gennle,” Thunder said as he crawled across the counter.

Sideswipe couldn’t wait until Sunburst could do more than babble. Granted Sky and Thunder still managed to mangle the basic Cybertronian they could speak, but that was just plain cute.

Thunder grabbed Sunburst’s hand and rubbed it down the glass, repeating, ‘gennle, gennle,’ as he did.

Sideswipe kept a hand on each of their backs so they wouldn’t go tumbling off the counter, and looked around at the others. Sky was with Star, cooing at the tiny sparkling Star and Blurr had created. Ratchet held little Gauge, pointing and speaking too low for Sideswipe to hear. Bluestreak and Jolt’s new sparklings happened to be right next to each other, and Zepher and Blaze were crawling back and forth, little doorwings fluttering in their excitement.

“Winks!” Everyone turned their gazes to Thunder as he chattered excitedly, pointing at Sideswipe’s sparkling. “Winks!”

Sky squirmed away from Star, and came to the tank, trying to push his twin out of the way. When that failed he crawled around the front of the tank, Sideswipe lifting Sunburst out of the determined seekerling’s way.

Sky trilled, pressing his face to the tank. “Winks!”

Sideswipe tipped his head, and then looked at Star for a translation. “Winks?”

Thunder chirped, “Winks!” again, babbling a string of hatchling talk, looking at his creator and pointing at Sideswipe’s sparkling. It ended with, “Sparky haf winks!”

Everyone was beginning to crowd around Sideswipe, and he held Sunburst closer, fighting the surge of protective instinct. Star lifted Thunder out of the way and leaned over, tipping his helm to survey the sparkling.

“You’re right. The sparkling does have wings.” Star straightened, reaching out to lift Sky away, and smiled at Sideswipe. “Skyfire’s going to be thrilled that you two created a flyer.”

Sideswipe blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Sparky haf winks,” Thunder repeated, serious as only a toddler can be.

Snickers filled the room, and Star set Sky back on the counter to look at the sparklings. “You heard him. Sparky haf winks.” He snickered. “You created a flyer.” Star set Thunder down too, when he squirmed, and leaned on the counter, motioning Sideswipe up, then pointing. “See those little flaps there just separating from his back? Those will develop into wings. Think back to when the twins were still gestating.”

“Well slag me,” Sideswipe whispered. “Sure they aren’t doorwings?”

“Definitely not. Look at Jazz and Blue’s sparklings. The little nubs of their doorwings have been there for over a week,” Star said.

“That’s right, and it was the same for Zepher and Blaze,” Jolt added. “They showed their doorwings much sooner after spark birth.”

“Skyfire’s gonna be pretty excited, huh?” Sideswipe asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. He had a jetpack and all, but a flying child? “Not a seeker though?”

Star shook his head. “No, not a seeker. Fire’s not one.” Then he shrugged. “Although to be honest, Cybertronian genetics and what traits can be passed on, as well as recessive traits, is a new field.” He smirked, glancing at the hatchlings. “With very few subjects to study so far.”

Sideswipe stared at his sparkling, cuddling Sunburst close. “When do they start flying?”

Another round of snickers and laughter, and Star patted Sideswipe’s shoulder. “Younglings fly. Not hatchlings.”

Sideswipe shook his head and stood up straight. “How do you know that? How do you know they won’t be outside one day and just take off?”

“Because they aren’t capable. There will be physical signs before they manage to be flight-worthy. And even if I’m wrong, which I doubt, none of the children will be able to out-fly me. I’ll catch them and bring them back.” Star squeezed his shoulder, then stepped back. “Don’t worry,” he said, picking up Sky and Thunder. “Now come on. It’s getting late and they’ll be released soon.”

Sideswipe shuddered, noticed Bluestreak do the same, and Jolt hug Blaze tight to his chest. Ratchet lifted Gauge away from his little brother’s tank, and gave a final touch to the glass. “Yeah. Forgot about that,” Sideswipe said, then leaned over, kissing the glass. “Love you, baby. We’ll be back later.” Sunburst chirped.

“Bye bye!” Sky yelled, and Thunder blew a kiss, immediately mimicked by Gauge and Zepher. Blaze fussed as Jolt headed for the door, and Sideswipe patted Sunburst’s back as he snuggled into his neck.

Sideswipe watched as Ratchet coded the lock and set the alarm, then walked back to the room on the top floor of the residential building that had been set up as a nursery and play room. He clutched Sunburst a little tighter as the ping went out to let everyone know Megatron and Soundwave were being released for their two hour afternoon free time.

~ | ~

Drag Strip sat against the wall on Barricade’s berth, one arm wrapped around Breakdown’s shoulders. Barricade sat cross-legged at the head, face reflecting the same unhappy frown Drag Strip wore. He was pretty sure Breakdown looked the same too, but his face was resolutely tucked into Drag Strip’s neck, and Barricade couldn’t see it.

They had been sitting there silently for the last fifteen minutes or so, and Drag Strip finally decided to break it and say what they were all thinking. “So what do we do?”

Barricade shrugged, sighing. “What can we do? Decision’s been made, and no one asked our opinion.”

Drag Strip huffed. Barricade had been the de facto leader of their little group since Drag Strip and Breakdown were cleared and released from the medbay. Of course their release had not been such a harrowing deal for so many. Drag Strip and Breakdown had barely survived the loss of their gestalt mates, and the subsequent trip to Earth and landing hadn’t helped them either. The fact that they managed to survive Wildrider’s death initially had been a miracle. Ratchet said the time between losing that first gestalt mate, and then losing Motormaster, and finally Dead End probably allowed them to adjust better than having lost all three, or even two at once.

Drag Strip decided it just proved he was the strongest despite Motormaster having been so large and powerful. And Breakdown? Meh, he probably thought he was too pretty to die.

“Not leavin’, can tell you that much,” Barricade said. “I was on the list this time. Plan to be on it next time. Even had a chat with Prowl about it being him, and Jazz might’ve been only joking, but he alluded to being willing too.”

Drag Strip huffed. “They don’t want my glitched CNA.” Though that wasn’t true -which they all knew- and Drag Strip rolled his optics as Barricade gave him a look. They all got around to plenty berths anymore, and no one was complaining from either side.

“I made a promise to Prime,” Barricade said, voice serious. “I gave him my seals and my loyalty, and I haven’t regretted it once in over a century. Pretty sure I’ll die before going back to Megatron’s way.” A slight, almost wry shrug. “Type of death optional, but I hope it’ll be fast.”

Breakdown snorted and finally uncurled to face Barricade. “I’m with you. We’re useless to Megatron now anyways. He’ll just use us and sacrifice us again the first time we become inconvenient.”

“Yeah, well, duh.” Drag Strip growled in irritation. “That’s kinda what I’ve been saying. We’re _not_ going back to Megatron, so what the frag do we do about it when he comes expecting us to?”

Barricade sighed, optics closing as he leaned his head back against the wall and stretched a foot out to lay over Drag Strip and Breakdown’s laps. “We say no, and hope we survive.”

~ | ~

Soundwave spent as much time as he could recharging. He knew Megatron was annoyed with him, but during the first couple weeks he left Soundwave alone to recover. When they were released for their supervised out-of-doors time, Soundwave did as Ratchet suggested and sat in the warm tropical sunlight.

They were left alone, other than their guard, and at first rarely saw any of the Earth-bound mechs. Soundwave did not expect to be welcomed, and thus was not surprised or irritated that they were avoided. Megatron, however, paced restlessly along the beach, growling and muttering to himself. Once deposited back in their quarters he would rant at Soundwave about the ‘cowards’ that didn’t dare approach them.

Soundwave rather thought them all prudent, but kept the opinion to himself, especially as the days, then weeks, ticked by. He knew how to mark Earth time measurements, and two months was not really all that long for former enemies to grow accustomed to their presence. Little by little mechs started to come closer, or watch curiously, but none approached, and only Optimus Prime spoke genially. This only aggravated Megatron more until he was openly impatient with Soundwave as well, badgering him about recharging, and demanding that Ratchet fix him.

There was nothing more to fix, however, and Soundwave knew it. His systems functioned within acceptable parameters, but he was still more comfortable curled up under the thermal blanket for recharge, and preferred to escape from this bleak reality into dreams from long, long ago. Ratchet eyed him, ran test after test, but it all came back the same.

The medic didn’t know Soundwave had overheard him, but his words rang in the telepath’s mind.

_“He may never get better than this. As close as his spark came to guttering… I just don’t know, Optimus. Megatron is just going to have to get it through that thick bucket-shaped head of his. This is Soundwave now.”_

Soundwave didn’t know what to think of that. He didn’t feel broken in some critical way, just apathetic. This was his life now. He’d never had friends, had long been feared, but now everything was just more… bleak. He was alive, and he didn’t _want_ to be dead. He was very grateful that Megatron had brought him to Earth, grateful Prime had allowed them to land, and felt he owed Ratchet a debt for repairing him when doing so had to be the last thing the medic had wanted to do.

But he had nothing to look forward to. No purpose.

More freedom of movement? So what?

Soundwave was content to stay in their quarters, fine with reading the fictional stories and even the obviously sanitized logs of the settlement.

Megatron was not, however, and pushed and demanded Soundwave find answers. What had the Autobots been doing? How were they thriving so well? What of the flesh creatures? What could he _use_ to escape this prison?! He was not happy that Soundwave had no answers for him, and even being allowed out for longer amounts of time and given minor tasks beside other mechs did not soothe Megatron.

Soundwave sighed as another rant trailed off with Megatron throwing himself onto the sofa. He twisted over, pulling the blanket around his shoulders and ignoring the wave of irritation the action caused in Megatron. He wanted to recharge. He wanted away from the brooding and frustrated anger of his leader.

~ | ~

His sparkling wasn’t the first to emerge, but Prowl certainly had quite the crowd in the medbay to help him greet his creation. Mirage stood against his back, arms tight around his waist and quite literally vibrating in excitement. Ratchet was beaming as he stood beside them, the little bath ready once the sparkling broke free of his pod. Behind him Optimus stood, his own creation and Ratchet’s newborn in his arms. Star was there beside Jazz, and Jazz’s doorwings arched, both mechs cuddling their hatchings close. And more. Bluestreak, Jolt, Sideswipe, who was apparently going to be the last one to get to hold his creation, the tiny flyer still dozing in his pod, undisturbed by the happy chatter in the medbay.

Prowl bit his lip, face aching from smiling so hard as he stared, willing his creation to kick free. There was a twist, a stretch, then suddenly the hatchling stilled, little blue optics blinking as he floated in the energon-rich gel that had surrounded his pod.

“Go ahead, Prowl,” Ratchet said.

Mirage released him, and Prowl reached into the warm gel. His hatchling jolted at the first touch, but then the tiniest fingers grasped at Prowl’s as he scooped the little mechlet up and out into the world. He’d seen it done enough to know to immediately tip the hatchling upside down, and with a cough, sneeze, and squeal, tiny vents cleared.

“Have you chosen a name?” Optimus asked.

Prowl smiled as he and Ratchet quickly, gently cleaned the gel and energon from his creation. “Whisper. His name is Whisper,” he replied, lifting the little one to his chest and dabbing at the water droplets with the cloth Ratchet had handed him.

Mirage leaned over Prowl’s shoulder, one tapered finger stroking over Whisper’s helm. “I think that suits him.”

Whisper was quiet already, optics wide as he stared into Prowl’s. “I’m in love.” Quiet chuckles surrounded him, but Prowl just smiled.

“Sit down, and feed him. The rest of you, out.” Ratchet took little Boomer back from Optimus, shooing them all away.

Mirage gave Whisper one last lingering touch, kissed Prowl’s helm, then left as well.

“I think I see a touch of blue there on him,” Ratchet said, motioning to the newborn, then handing Prowl a cube of energon. “Drink it, scans show you’re running low.

Prowl smiled and took the cube, draining it quickly as he sat on a med berth and got comfortable. “And when did you last refuel?”

Ratchet chuckled as he sat beside Prowl, optics taking in how well Whisper latched onto his carrier’s finger. Satisfied that the hatchling was getting his first meal, he replied, “I’m not the one that likes to skip meals when over-excited.” He leaned over to kiss Prowl’s cheek. “He’s perfect.”

“They are all perfect.” Prowl shifted until he could press against Ratchet’s side. “I think… I think I hurt a little less. Looking at him.”

Ratchet said nothing, just leaned a little more weight in and rested his helm against Prowl’s. Prowl sighed, watching as Whisper’s optics dimmed, then fluttered shut. The soft, trusting warmth of a hatchling sleeping in one’s arms was something none of them could seem to get over. Not the carriers, not anyone.

Prowl sighed, both ready and reluctant to leave the medbay. “Big brother Gauge will be waiting.”

Ratchet chuckled and kissed him again before standing. “They’re all waiting.” He glanced over at Sideswipe’s lone sparkling in his tank, one finger gliding down the surface. “Hurry up there, little one. Everyone really is waiting on you now.”

“Not least of all his carrier.” Prowl moved toward the door, waiting for Ratchet to follow.

Boomer chirruped in Ratchet’s arms as he was shifted. “I can’t wait until he can fly. It’s going to be fun watching Sideswipe get back a little of all he’s given us over the vorns.”

Prowl snickered. “He is also part of Skyfire.”

Ratchet snorted and both hatchlings twitched. They were quiet a moment as they walked toward the common room and the little ones settled back down. “Please. Skyfire’s devious. I’ve seen the gears turning at times.”

It was another favorite game: trying to guess who these little individuals were, which creator they would favor, what they would be like. “What do you think? Another day? Two?”

“If even a day,” Ratchet replied. “I’ve got all but one camera on him, and sensors set to go off if he gets too active. Don’t worry though. We’ll all celebrate Whisper’s birth, and if Sideswipe’s bitlet decides to interrupt the party, well…” He shrugged, grinning widely. “Just means the party will end up lasting longer.”

They had just entered the common room, everyone quieting and turning to look when Ratchet bit out a curse.

“Oh he _is_ yours, Sideswipe! Someone better save me some high grade!”

“It’s time?!” Skyfire yelped.

“Ratchet, you can’t drink high grade while filtering for the hatchlings,” Prowl reminded.

“No, but I can stare at it longingly and smell it, so there better be a cube for me when we get back.” Ratchet deposited Boomer in Wheeljack’s arms as he appeared, hooked a dazed Sideswipe, and chased after Skyfire who was already out the door and gone from sight.

Prowl smiled at Perceptor as he approached, and tipped his arms so Gauge could see his newest sibling. “His name is Whisper,” Prowl told the trilling hatchling, voice pitched to carry through the room of mechs all waiting to hear as well.

A round of cheers went up, and Prowl was hauled into the crowd, bouncing his now crying hatchling in his arms. He reached out with his spark, feeling the little thread of connection between them. _I am afraid you shall just have to get used to this, my sweet love. We are a loud and happy lot._

~ | ~

Optimus sat cross-legged on the beach, Torque on a blanket of thick tarpaulin material in front of him. The sun was bright and high overhead, and Optimus smiled happily at his creation, thoroughly enjoying their time alone. His comms were off, everyone knew to leave him be, and he was taking time to focus, not on duties and tasks, but on the little, dark pewter bitlet kicking his feet and trying to catch them.

“Almost had it that time,” Optimus chuckled.

Deep blue optics shifted to his face, and Torque kicked out both feet, arms swinging. He trilled and chirped as he bounced, and smiled brightly up at Optimus. Then he spotted his foot again, managing to grab it, which caused him to roll to his side. Optimus tickled the hatchling’s underarm, laughing softly at the squeal it caused.

“Where did you get that hatchling from?”

Happiness, joy, peace- they all shattered at the sound of that voice behind him. Optimus scooped up Torque, springing to his feet to face Megatron. “What are you doing here?!” The hatchling’s startled cry rang over the beach.

“I’m allowed out, Prime. You are the one that gave me the schedule.” Megatron pointed at the hatchling. “Is that Starscream’s? It survived? It’s rather… tiny.”

Optimus backed away as Megatron took another step closer. How had he let so much time slip by without noticing? Primus! “Stay away from him.”

Megatron’s helm tipped. “Starscream, or the hatchling?”

Optics narrowing, Optimus growled, “Both. And his name is Star now.”

A snort. “He’ll always be Starscream.”

“I will not hesitate to kill you.”

Megatron drew up short, the hand he’d had outstretched in curiosity toward the hatchling dropping. “I wouldn’t harm the little one.”

Prime turned and ran.

 _Ran_.

Megatron stared after him utterly dumbfounded. Prime had run away, and Megatron knew exactly when he ducked into the building because the hatchling’s cries were cut off. A very little hatchling. It had been a vorn and a half since Starscream had been left with the Autobots. Megatron didn’t know very much about hatchlings, but he thought it would be larger by now. Less… helpless. The little creature Prime had hurried away with was uncoordinated. _Tiny_. Megatron was sure he could easily and securely hold the hatchling in one hand.

What was going on here?

Megatron turned from the beach. He had a new task for Soundwave.

~ | ~

Soundwave returned to his berth and wrapped the thermal blanket around his shoulders. He could have stayed out for longer. He and Megatron had been granted the _privilege_ of freedom. This was under the condition that neither of them approached a mech with a hatchling. If a mech came to them, then fine, but they were _never_ to impose themselves upon a mech whose first instinct was to protect his creation at all costs.

The settlement was in an uproar, but there was little else that could be done. Megatron asked a million questions, and demanded Soundwave do the same. Soundwave, however, knew more than he’d told anyone. He knew he was a carrier. He understood how it came about. He knew that Prime and the others capable, including Starscream, had decided to enact a voluntary breeding program for the sake of their species. And he knew that absolutely everyone was sure Megatron was a tank rumble away from eating their hatchlings.

“What are you doing?” Megatron asked as he entered their quarters.

“Recharge required.”

Soundwave was pinned with an annoyed and disbelieving look. “ _Information_ required,” Megatron snapped back, stomping toward his berth.

“Information obtained. Small percentage of mechs capable of sparking new life. Current goal, reestablish Cybertronian species.”

“I know that! What I want to know is how? Who? Why did we not know of this before?”

Soundwave huddled under his blanket, knees pulling up higher toward his chest. “Suggestion: ask medic.”

A wall of anger rose, and Soundwave forced himself not to cringe. He was tired, he felt cold, despite knowing he wasn’t, and he was just _done_ for the day. Hardly anyone would speak to him. No one with a sparkling approached. It wasn’t unexpected, or even hard to understand and empathize with them, but it was exhausting. Combined with Megatron’s constant pushing, Soundwave wished he could just…

Leave.

“How about _you_ go ask the slagging medic?!” Megatron rose, and Soundwave braced, but he wasn’t struck. The blanket was yanked away. “You don’t need this damn thing!”

Soundwave was off his berth and scrambling after the blanket before Megatron’s arm had even fully extended to throw it away from them.

“What-? Soundwave!”

Soundwave wadded up the blanket in his arms, glaring back at Megatron. “Blanket; comfortable.” And comforting, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud.

Megatron sighed, frustration visible in every line of his frame. “Tomorrow we-”

“Negative.”

“What?”

Soundwave ignored the warning growl in Megatron’s tone and turned toward the door. He _could_ leave. He wouldn’t be able to go terribly far, but he could leave this room now, and he could leave Megatron’s demanding presence.

“Where are you going?!”

Soundwave did something he’d never done before, and did not answer Megatron. His spark pounded all the way to the common room. It was dimly lit, only two mechs talking quietly at a table when Soundwave entered. He ignored them and their shock, walked to the nearest sofa, and laid down.

Under his blanket.

He waited, expecting Megatron to come stomping in at any moment, but he didn’t, and eventually Soundwave was dragged down into recharge.

~ | ~

“Soundwave?”

Soundwave didn’t want to respond, but he knew that voice. One did not ignore a Prime, especially when one owed him one’s life. He tugged the blanket from over his helm, and blinked up through his visor at Optimus Prime. He could feel the pulse of concern, and forced himself to sit up despite how tired he was.

“Why did you recharge here?” Prime asked.

“Apologies. It will not happen again.”

Prime’s hand covered Soundwave’s gently, stopping him from balling up the blanket. “I’m not angry with you, just worried. Are you all right?”

Soundwave debated, running over all the thoughts that kept waking him during the night. He was actually being presented a chance he thought he’d have to wait and watch for. It would be foolish to pass it up out of nervousness. “Functional. I would like to make a request.”

Prime released Soundwave’s hands and sat beside him. “What is it you need?”

Uncomfortable with such complete attention focused on him, Soundwave tried not to fidget. He smoothed a wrinkle out of the blanket, watching his hand. “Request: own quarters.” He glanced up through the corner of his visor, going very still as he felt the wave of anger wash over him from Prime.

“Has Megatron hurt you?”

“Negative.” Soundwave stumbled over how to word his explanation, because if Prime’s expression was anything to go by, he wasn’t believed. “Unharmed. Priorities have changed.”

“Yours or his?”

“Mine,” Soundwave responded without hesitation. “Continued close association with Megatron detrimental to social status.”

Prime blinked, then his mouth twitched into a slight grin. “You want everyone to accept you, but being stuck with Megatron all the time alienates you from that possibility.” He nodded. “Yes, I can certainly see that. I’m also happy to hear at least one of you genuinely wants to integrate into our lives here.”

“Affirmative.” There was more, but Soundwave wasn’t interested in discussing it in the middle of the common room, which was getting busy with mechs now coming for their morning energon. Many of those mechs noted the blanket in Soundwave’s lap and gave Prime a curious look.

“I’ll talk to Prowl about quarters for you this morning, and once he’s had them arranged, take you there myself.” Prime touched the blanket lightly. “How are you feeling otherwise?”

“Psychosomatic response still troubling.”

Prime smiled and shrugged. “The war is long over, Soundwave. There’s no reason you can’t indulge yourself by recharging under a blanket if it’s comforting. Or sleeping in, _or_ having an extra cube simply because it tastes good. You’re good at observing. Look around you.”

Soundwave obeyed, optics trailing Prime’s expansive gesture.

“The mechs here are happy. We have energon, comfort, friendship.” Prime paused. “We have our hatchlings. We’re rebuilding our lives. I _want_ you, and even Megatron, to join in this. I’m not so stupidly optimistic that I don’t know it’s going to take time for everyone to get over their wariness of you, but just displaying you want the peace they have and are willing to contribute will help.”

Soundwave nodded. He could feel the sincerity in Prime. It was optimism, but it was genuine and based in true happiness. Yes, the mechs were looking at him oddly, confused by why he was there so early, why Prime was sitting with him looking so earnest. Despite that, however, they were also smiling and laughing with one another. Morning greetings rang out, and a few mechs even had their hatchlings with them. It wasn’t long at all before those hatchlings were being passed around for affectionate hugs, then placed together to play in a small fenced-off space in the corner.

Soundwave noted that they were larger than the one Megatron had seen with Prime. He was fascinated by them, but knew he wasn’t allowed to approach. His spark yearned for them. Something he most certainly hadn’t told Megatron. “Is the medic available?”

“You need to see Ratchet?” Instant concern replaced the warmth of happiness coming from Prime, and Soundwave almost smiled.

“Affirmative,” Soundwave replied looking up at Prime. “Health optimal. Discussion of a personal nature.”

“I’ll have him contact you when he has a moment then.”

“Appreciated.”

Prime’s hand landed gently on Soundwave’s shoulder and squeezed. “Get some breakfast. I’ll find you as soon as I know which room Prowl has available.”

Soundwave rose with Prime, draped his blanket over his arm, and went to get a cube of energon. Megatron was going to be displeased, but he just couldn’t bring himself to feel more than a mild trepidation about that. He was done. Soundwave was no longer a Decepticon, thus he no longer needed to obey Megatron’s orders. He could wish for something different as much as he wanted, but the fact was that Megatron was still trying to find a way to win.

Soundwave looked around, _really_ saw the mechs moving around, let their voices and emotions wash through him. They were happy. This couldn’t be ‘won’. It could be accepted though, but that couldn’t be forced. The only way Soundwave could see to maybe… _maybe_ get Megatron to open his optics, was to leave him. Soundwave would never get what he wanted if he stayed by his former leader’s side, and though he could feel the tension in the mechs around him as he picked a seat at an empty -but much closer than usual- table, he knew there was a chance.

Eventually.

Soundwave saw Barricade enter, and his optics lit a little more. He sent a querying ping, saw the surprise, but Barricade came over to him.

“What?” Barricade asked, dropping into the seat across from Soundwave.

“Request assistance.” Soundwave then did what he hadn’t for a very long time. He retracted the battlemask, then his visor, leaving his rather expressive face bare to be seen, and spoke in a more common cadence. “I want to learn to fit in.”

Barricade blinked, but then nodded. “Well. I can tell you what me and the others did.”

Soundwave nodded, then sipped his energon while Barricade spoke, and pretended not to notice how so many stared at him.

~ | ~

“Wait. What?” Ratchet asked. “You _knew_ you were a carrier? How’d you escape the Fallen?” Because that was what everyone wanted to know. Soundwave wasn’t reignited by the Allspark, which meant he’d been a carrier all along.

“Careful application of telepathic suggestion and a reflective coating on the inside of my crystal.”

“So… You knew what he was doing, and decided to let him do it to everyone else while saving your own aft. Admirable.” Ratchet crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter. He was pushing and knew Optimus wouldn’t approve, but slag that. Soundwave came to him wanting to be sure he was still capable of carrying before giving his seals to The Prime, saying he wanted to carry after that if it was possible, and expected Ratchet to just go along with it?

Yeah, right.

“Negative. I was one of the last to swear fealty. I learned of what he was doing and protected myself. There was little more I could do.”

“So you know how it works then?”

Soundwave nodded, lips pressed together and visor dim. “Spark splitting ability… I researched it.”

“Uh huh.” Ratchet tipped his helm. “Yes. You are capable of carrying, though I don’t know if I’d recommend it. No one’s even willing to let you around their hatchlings, I can’t think of a single mech that’d be ok with baring his spark to you so you could create one. Besides. Can’t you just spark split again?”

Soundwave shook his helm. “Minor sparks. Drones. Incapable of-” He sighed, slouching a little. “They’re drones. Incapable of living without a host. A sparkling is a whole new, _independent_ life. One that may one day be capable of creating and carrying as well.”

Ratchet’s optic ridge arched. He and many others wondered if being carrier born would grant any of the newsparks the ability to carry as well, but they were all far too young to tell, or put that sort of pressure on. “Well, you said you needed to talk to Optimus anyway, so I’d suggest telling him you want to carry. Physically, I can’t see any reason you shouldn’t, but you’ve got to be aware that it’s unlikely anyone’s going to want to spark you up. And if you guilt Prime into it, I’ll take your aft apart.”

“Understood. I have no intention of… guilting anyone into assisting me. Knowing it is possible is enough.”

Ratchet heard the unspoken ‘for now’, but let it drop. “How do you like your new room?”

“It is very nice.”

Ratchet couldn’t help but grin a little. Soundwave had actually smiled, and while he had his visor on, most of his face was exposed. “I like the battlemask being gone. Makes you seem more personable.”

Soundwave’s very white face also pinked up in a blush very easily. Slag it. He was not about to start thinking about how cute the telepath’s kids would be. No fragging way.

Ratchet waved a hand at the door. “Out. I have some work to do, then a hatchling to tend.”

“Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome. Go smile at more people. Maybe it won’t be so long before you get a volunteer after all.”

Ratchet grinned. Yep. Soundwave blushed easily. Who would ever have thought?

~ | ~

“You know,” Starscream- _Star_ said. “This _thing_ the former Decepticons do troubles Optimus. Once to soothe Barricade was one thing. It was even understandable from Drag Strip and Breakdown given his build type. You, however.”

Soundwave sat in Star and Optimus Prime’s lounge with the seeker, and nodded. “You understand the importance of the gesture,” he said with not a bit of doubt that Star did indeed understand. Optimus Prime must too, or he wouldn’t have agreed to it. Besides, Soundwave could think of no other he would desire than Prime. Star would do if Prime was genuinely unwilling, and as mates, Soundwave was content to be… shared by them. More than content, in truth. He liked the idea behind giving his seals to the _Cybertronian_ leader. First times for experiences came seldom the longer a mech lived, and Soundwave was no youngling. He could trust that Prime would not use the opportunity to hurt him, even subtly. Star… well, he might, but then Soundwave didn’t really expect better from him.

Perhaps he should? If nothing else, Soundwave enjoyed the passion Star always poured into everything he did. It was why Soundwave had requested they both be present.

“And what does Megatron think of this?” Star asked, but his carefully modulated tone couldn’t hide the suspicion or fear.

“I do not know. I did not seek his counsel in this decision.”

“How interesting.”

Soundwave met Star’s optics and held the gaze. He could feel more coming and wasn’t disappointed.

“You aren’t concerned?” Star clearly was. It seemed old fears died very slow deaths.

“Megatron has no claim on my seals. I choose this as a way of showing my willingness to be a part of this community. I have spoken to the other former Decepticons, and feel this is right. If Prime is willing, then so be it. Megatron has no say.”

Star blinked, then snickered. “I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you say in one go.”

Soundwave frowned at him. He wasn’t expecting Star to snicker. Or to reach out and trace the tip of a finger along his bottom lip, but then his hand dropped, and the mood shifted. There was a wave of pain, and Star met Soundwave’s optics. “I’m glad you were able to hide from the Fallen. You don’t need to include me because of that.”

“If you are not willing-”

“I didn’t say that,” Star said, cutting Soundwave off. “I wouldn’t have wished what I went through on anyone. I’m _glad_ you escaped the same fate. So if this is some misplaced attempt at easing guilt-”

“No,” Soundwave cut in this time. “I only regret finding out too late to hide others from him. I do not regret my choice.”

“Would you have hidden us?”

Soundwave paused. “I would have hidden you. With Megatron presumed dead, and the Allspark shard only a slim chance of success, you were required as a leader. Also, you would have kept it secret.” Soundwave wasn’t as sure the other mechs would have been able to pull off the subterfuge, and he wouldn’t have risked himself for them.

“You are still cold and calculating.”

The door _shwoosh_ ed softly behind Soundwave as he answered, “I am practical, and wish to survive.”

“Your survival doesn’t require giving your seals to me,” Optimus Prime said as he entered. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Soundwave stood and faced Prime. “I am certain. It must be done. I would prefer there be meaning, and with one I know will not injure me.”

“No one here would harm you.”

“Which is the same thing he said to Barricade,” Starscream added with a smirk. “You aren’t going to talk him out of this unless you’re against it,” he told Prime.

Prime’s helm tilted and he observed Soundwave for a moment. “I’m not against it. Interfacing in such a way with many partners has had a very interesting and beneficial effect on our community. If you _want_ this… want _me_ , then I am willing.

“My concern is that you feel obligated, and also that this will become some sort of… tribute. That any other Decepticons that may come to us will feel that they must do this to be accepted.” Soundwave could feel the weight of Prime’s stare as a living thing, searching, pressing. “I’ll interface with anyone. And there is something beautiful and… almost sacred to watching a mech experience his first overloads this new way. I am honored you would trust me with this. I just wish to be sure you are choosing for reasons other than thinking that you _have to_. You are quite attractive, after all, and I’m not the only one that’s noticed. A few more weeks, maybe a month or two, and you may find options opening up to you if you just wait.”

Soundwave listened. He also reached and could feel the sincerity in Prime. He believed everything he’d said, but Soundwave didn’t want to wait. “My desire is to create. Not this time, but as soon after as you will give me permission.”

“You don’t need his permission to create,” Star said, optics narrowed. “Those of us that choose to do it do so as we wish. The schedule was created for convenience and the designated time between sparkings was established for the health of the carrier as well as the hatchlings. Having all the carriers create at the same time was a choice we made collectively, and it’s brought us closer. We are trying to rebuild our species, true, but not at the cost of a functioning, mature mech.

“Now, try to go more often than half a vorn or so, and Ratchet will rant at you regarding your health, but despite that, the choice is always yours.”

Soundwave nodded. He understood, though _not_ asking permission for such a very important thing, given his situation, was unfathomable. “If the choice is mine, then I will seek a willing contributor tomorrow.” However, he really wanted to get to the point of his visit. Lacking a smooth segue, he simply asked, “Will we be interfacing in this room or in your berth?”

Blue optics blinked, and Prime chuckled. “The berth, if you’re alright with that?”

“This way,” Star snickered. He stood and motioned Soundwave to follow him, asking over his shoulder, “You _are_ going to enjoy this, right? Pits!” He suddenly spun around, forcing Soundwave to lean back to avoid the wing tip that swept by. “Have you ever even interfaced before?”

Affronted, Soundwave scowled at the seeker. “Affirmative.” Granted, it had been _ages_ ago and just tactile, but they were doing something entirely different from that now anyway, so experience hardly mattered.

Star eyed him for a moment, but then turned back and led the way into the berthroom.

Soundwave followed, acutely aware of Prime walking just behind him. He knew well enough what to expect. Knew there would be a slight pain, but that pleasure could distract most of that. Ratchet even offered to remove the seals painlessly. They didn’t need to be _broken_ , and he could still give his first experience to whoever he wished, but Soundwave had declined. He wanted the entire experience, even the pain that came from the thin silicon barrier tearing away from the sensor-laden surface of his array.

“Do you have a preference on how you would like to start?” Prime asked as he passed Soundwave to settle in the middle of the berth.

Soundwave hesitated slightly, but then stepped forward to join him. He was aware of Star following, and settled on his back, legs slightly parted. “Will this do?”

Prime and Star shared a look over him, and Star snickered. Soundwave scowled, then hurriedly tried to smooth out his expression, but they had already seen it.

“Is that how you interface, Soundwave?” Star asked, far too amused for Soundwave’s liking. “Lie back and think of Cybertron?”

“Negative.” Though he didn’t know what more to say than that to argue. Slagging Starscream. Still so easily able to irritate him, but Prime was chuckling softly, and then stretching out beside Soundwave.

“We’ve learned how very awkward it can be, and also how to move past that,” Prime said. He shifted closer, pressing against Soundwave, and braced up on one elbow. His free hand was placed lightly in the middle of Soundwave’s chest and rested there. “Of course, Star is a bit of a sadist, so watching mechs squirm is something he enjoys.”

“You’re mistaking me for yourself again,” Star commented as he also stretched out and snuggled in to Soundwave’s other side. “He makes everyone squirm. He _is_ rather good at it though, so I’d recommend relaxing some and enjoying this. You really have nothing to be nervous about.”

Soundwave was about to protest, but knew it would be a lie. He was determined, he wanted this, he wanted to enjoy it even, but he _was_ nervous and denying that would be pointless.

“We can relax him,” Prime murmured, helm tipping in, his nose brushing along Soundwave’s cheek. His hand had begun to move as well, tracing random whorls over Soundwave’s chest plating. “However, I do have one very important rule.”

Soundwave’s optics flickered a little, and he let them fall shut. A rule? He had to resist reaching out to hear the Prime’s thoughts, and instead asked, “What rule?”

“You must say if you don’t like something one of us does. Breaking seals is uncomfortable, but it doesn’t last, so if anything hurts, if the pain doesn’t fade, if you don’t enjoy something, say so.”

“Take that as an order if you need to,” Star snickered, and then nipped at Soundwave’s jaw line.

“Understood.” Soundwave shivered under the soft touches and teasing caresses. He had night and day to either side of him, and it was making his entire sensornet fuzz over in pleasure. Prime was slow and light and smooth. Star was firmer, playful, sharper.

Primus, but it _had_ been a _long_ time for Soundwave. Their touches sent sensation zinging through his circuits, and it wasn’t very difficult at all to relax into it. Systems responded and heated more easily than he had expected, and it wasn’t long at all before the first low sound escaped in the form of a soft hum.

Prime purred, a single finger laying along Soundwave’ jaw and turning his helm. Warm lips pressed against Soundwave’s, and he opened to it, licking out to taste Prime. A low growl sounded, and teeth set over his main energon line, Star’s sharp fangs scraping lightly and making him shiver.

Soundwave melted between them. He didn’t need his telepathy to confirm the desire and arousal, it surrounded him, nearly overwhelming. He tried to touch them back, but his concentration was on what they were doing _to_ him.

When Prime’s hand swept down over Soundwave’s middle, he shivered. When it slipped over the front plane of his pelvis, he gasped, body tensing in anticipation. His legs fell open more, and a low, unrestrained moan flowed from him as Prime palmed the hot panel that covered his interface array.

The protocols had been dug out when Soundwave made his choice, and he initiated them without hesitation. There was a click, and then cool air caressed the heated surface a moment before Prime’s fingers glided over the sensor-rich metal of his array. Soundwave cried out, arching up into the touch.

“You are so beautiful,” Star murmured by Soundwave’s audial. “Hold nothing back.”

“Please don’t hold back,” Prime said against Soundwave’s mouth.

Soundwave whimpered as Prime moved over him, spreading his legs even farther apart. Star’s hand swept down his inner thigh to his knee, then drew it up and out. His fingers teased into the back of the joint and sparked bright flares of pleasure that shot right up Soundwave’s leg to his newly bared array.

Thick, strong fingers circled the rim of Soundwave’s valve, and Prime purred louder, almost drowning out the click of his own panel retracting. Soundwave moaned, optics peeking open to look. Beside him, Star chuckled softly, mind and EM field vibrating with seductive amusement.

“Intimidated?”

Soundwave nodded. “Sizable.”

“I’ll prepare you,” Prime told him. “It won’t hurt when I enter you.”

Soundwave was momentarily confused, but then one of Prime’s fingers moved from the rim to the seal itself, and with one firm, decisive push, the thin silicon broke. Soundwave sucked in a sharp breath, and felt heat spread warm and slick down under his aft.

Star purred. “So very wet.”

Face heating, Soundwave tried to find the pleasure that was supposed to follow that sharp pinch of pain. Prime was smiling, tongue sweeping over his lower lip and optics dark in obvious arousal. A new, sweet scent filled the air, and only became stronger as Prime’s finger slowly pushed in, then withdrew. It stroked in again, then back out to join the others, circling the rim a few times before starting over.

“You’re thinking too much,” Star whispered, nibbling his way to a kiss that was as demanding as he was.

Soundwave surrendered to it, whimpering as the pressure in his valve increased. Fire licked up through is lines, and he uncurled his fists from the berth covers to grasp Starscream’s shoulders, unsure when he’d even started clawing at the padding.

“Star,” Prime called softly, and Star pulled away from the kiss.

Prime removed his fingers, and Soundwave reached for him even as he was covered by the heavy frame. He keened, optics squeezed shut as the thick, blunt spike pressed inward. Body rigid, it took a moment before Prime’s rumbling settled into words, but Soundwave couldn’t relax. He couldn’t breathe. He gasped out pleading words, certain he was going to melt he was so hot. He knew this feeling, hovering on the edge of an overload, but not _quite_ there.

Prime was rocking, but too shallowly. Soundwave lifted his other leg and hooked it over a silver hip, foot connecting with Prime’s aft. They both yelped with the sudden depth of the thrust, but it hadn’t hurt.

“Primus!”

Soundwave didn’t even know which of them was cursing, but it was Prime who caught his wrists and pinned his hands over his helm.

“Please!”

“Frag, but I’ve missed first times,” Star said, releasing his hold on Soundwave’s leg.

“Please,” Soundwave begged again, back arching to press his chest harder to Prime’s.

Giving a low purr, Prime nuzzled into Soundwave’s neck, and laced their fingers together. “Push your hips into my thrust. Rock your aft down into the berth as I pull away.”

It took a few slow thrusts for Soundwave to catch the motion, but then it was like dancing. Even as they sped up, he was able to follow the rhythm, body all but taking over, rolling into each thick plunge to the beat of his spark. His sensornet was alight, vents roaring. They hadn’t wanted him to hold back, but Soundwave couldn’t imagine being capable of it. The charge swelled, and a pressure banded around his hips. He felt wound tight, a hard knot and burning ache settling in deep and low.

The first surge of ecstasy stole Soundwave’s air. His optics flew open, sightless, blazing white. The second crest was even more powerful and drove a sharp, high scream from him. Each successive wave rushed through his body, intense, almost frighteningly so, until he sobbed with it, shaking and wrecked, and already wanting more even as the aftershocks still shimmered over his sensornet.

Prime carried Soundwave through it, his thrusts becoming sharper, his frame tensing. A low, long moan rolled out, vibrating the air between them, and heat pulsed into Soundwave’s valve, thick and charged.

And then he was screaming again.

Reeling, clinging to consciousness only through determination, Soundwave panted, trying to desperately drag cooler air into his vents.

“Optimus,” Star said, pushing at Prime’s shoulder.

Soundwave didn’t want to let go, but Prime pushed himself up. He paused to brush a soft kiss to Soundwave’s mouth, then carefully pulled out.

“I know you’re spinning,” Star said to Soundwave, “but now’s the perfect time for it. Execute your spike protocols.”

Soundwave heard a soft click, and whimpered as Prime moved farther away, tugging his legs down as he did. Then Starscream was straddling his thighs, the pad of his thumb scribing circles over the seal covering Soundwave’s spike. The discomfort was barely noticeable this time, and Soundwave caught Star’s waist.

Smirking, Star reached between them to drag his fingers along the length of Soundwave’s spike. Slick, heat sheathed him as Star slowly sank down. Soundwave’s instinct was to push up, but he couldn’t seem to move. Lust suffocated him, as Star seated himself fully, then braced his hands against Soundwave’s chest.

“Ready?”

Soundwave managed an wordless growl in response, but then Star moved, hips rolling, arrays grinding together, the inner walls of his valve squeezing _so tight_. Thought ceased. Time became nonexistent. His fingers dug into Star’s waist, pulling him in even harder.

It did not last long, and Soundwave was surprised to feel the ripple-grip-release of Star’s valve. The paced changed, slowed, and the valve snugged in even tighter. Soundwave stared up at Star as his helm fell back, mouth open in a silent scream. His own release slammed into him hard. It made Soundwave curl upward, a grunt escaping before the punch of pleasure smoothed out to surging bliss and pulled a low, shuddering moan from him.

He collapsed back to the berth, arms winding around Star’s waist as he leaned forward, helm resting on Soundwave’s chest.

“Good?” Star asked, still breathless.

“It sure looked good,” Prime chuckled, returning to rest against Soundwave’s side once more.

Soundwave nodded, but just a little. He was exhausted. Exhilarated. He wanted to do it again, but wanted to recharge.

He wanted-

He wanted to go and tell Megatron. He wanted to _show_ Megatron.

Soundwave held Star a little tighter, and tipped his helm toward Prime, seeking the offered affection, and forcing all thoughts of Megatron from his mind. He purred, whispered a soft, “Thank you,” then let recharge claim him for a while.

~ | ~

Megatron had taken to spending a lot of time on the beach. With Soundwave avoiding him -and wasn’t that just wonderful, the ungrateful glitch!- he had far too much time on his hands. He had never done well with being idle, and besides the blatant ostracization from all but Prime, there just wasn’t much for him _to_ do. He couldn’t wander much because, really, having mechs flee and scurry away had really lost its shine. It was more annoying than anything else. Not to mention _no one_ would tell him about the hatchlings.

It was maddening. So Megatron clomped along the curved beach, avoiding the human building at the far end of the arc of land, and spent a lot of time outside. His preferred spot was a shaded alcove of trees. It was set back a bit from the softly lapping waves along the inner curve of the atoll. Trees and large-leafed, flowering plants all but hid him from view unless one was directly in front of him, and he could sit there with a rather impressive measure of privacy to think his thoughts and mull over just what the frag was going on.

Not that he’d managed many answers, but with Soundwave all but gone, and not really wanting to risk being ‘justifiably’ shot, Megatron wasn’t going to chase mechs down to beg answers they likely wouldn’t give him.

It was almost nostalgic to hear seeker thrusters, however, and Megatron leaned forward, optics widening as he saw Starscream. Tucked under each arm and squealing happily were two miniature seekers, arms outstretched as Starscream flew them in a wide circle, before returning to the beach. Megatron lost sight of him, and frowned. He should probably get up, but then why? He was still Megatron. He ran from no one, and this situation did not require strategic retreat either.

Crossing his arms, Megatron leaned back and stared up at the ridiculously blue sky. He could hear voices talking and recognized Prime’s low rumble, Starscream’s higher tenor, and even that gun-happy weapons master, Ironhide. There was a fourth voice, but Megatron couldn’t place it, and they were all getting closer.

“Ooo!”

“Hi!”

Megatron’s optics dropped suddenly to the two hatchling seekers peering at him from around the base of a palm tree, and for a moment he stared back at them, speechless.

Fragging Pits, they were… _cute_.

“You big like dada,” the little purple one said, coming closer.

“Shiny,” the blue one added, nodding his little helm.

“I am Megatron,” Megatron informed them, wondering if they’d been warned about him.

“I Sky. Him’s Dunder.”

“Thhhh,” the blue one hissed, pushing his… brother. “Thhhhhunder.”

Sky and Thunder? Then the memory struck, and Megatron spoke before he could stop himself. “He named you for his dead trine.”

“Who dead?” Sky asked, brazenly, fearlessly approaching Megatron and climbing into his lap. Tiny hands grasped, and the most impossibly small fingers curled around armor edges as Sky searched for a spot to sit.

Thunder followed, and Megatron found his hands hovering behind their backs, respiration held and spark pulsing a bit faster at the thought of them falling, injuring themselves. It wasn’t even that he figured he’d be blamed and possibly killed if one of the hatchlings was hurt. Megatron himself felt his mind flinch away from the idea of them being wounded, even in a minor way.

“You should both be careful. You don’t even know me.” Megatron could only watch them, nonplussed by the absolute, unwavering trust they granted him simply for existing.

Thunder poked a teeny finger against a plate of armor that was bigger than him, bright optics earnest as the gazed up into Megatron’s. “You Meg’ron. Said so.”

And it was just that simple for them.

 _Not_ for their carrier, however.

Megatron yelped, and the hatchings squeaked in alarm as they were snatched up from his lap, Starscream’s shrill voice tearing through the alcove. “What are you doing?!”

Megatron was stunned, though he thought that maybe he shouldn’t be.

Ironhide’s cannons whirred to life, but weren’t aimed yet. The hatchlings and Starscream were between those cannons and Megatron, and Megatron was grateful for that fact, because he was sure he’d have been blasted already had Ironhide had a clean shot.

A small blue mech took the little hatchling Megatron had seen Prime carrying before, and was _gone_. A racer. A fast one.

“Star. Go,” Prime ordered.

Starscream stepped back, hissing, wings vibrating, and his hatchlings making distressed sounds as he held them close and tight. Then he launched, sand blasting Megatron, Prime, and Ironhide. Megatron scowled, red optics dropping from where Starscream had disappeared above the trees back to Prime’s. He opened his mouth to speak, but the cannons came up, and Prime’s rather impressive blaster was in his hand as well.

“What were you doing?!” Prime demanded, voice dangerously low.

Megatron snarled, hating that he couldn’t launch to his feet and meet this confrontation head-on. At least not without consequences he didn’t want. “Sitting here, Prime!” he snapped. “I was _sitting_ here, and they came to me.”

“I told you-”

“ _They_ crawled into my lap! _They_ spoke to me!” Unicron slag him!

“Let me just kill him. Be safer,” Ironhide growled.

Megatron bared his teeth. He’d go down fighting if they wanted to go that route.

“No.” Prime’s hand came up, and pushed down on Ironhide’s arm. “But you will not touch them again. If a hatchling comes toward you, you leave. I don’t care what you’re doing, you walk _away_! Got it?”

Megatron stood, growling. “Like this?” he asked, then pushed past both of them to stomp off down the beach. Fragging glitched, paranoid, pain-in-the-aft slaggers!

~ | ~

It took Megatron a few days to track Prime down, and that was after unsuccessfully trying to badger, intimidate, and then outright annoy the medic into telling him _how_ the hatchlings had been created. Tracking Prime down had not been easy at all. Apparently the story of Megatron breathing the same air as Thunder and Sky had gotten around, and everyone was too busy trying to murder him with just their will and a narrow-optics glare to bother helping him find Prime.

Megatron deduced that The Fallen had once been a Prime, and Optimus was a Prime, thus, somehow, Prime had managed to sire more hatchlings. Megatron wanted to know how, and since all the little ones he’d caught sight of looked so different, was it _only_ Prime that could do it?

“Prime!”

“I’m busy, Megatron,” Prime replied, not even bothering to look back. The slagger.

“Yes, terribly busy walking toward the lift to go to your quarters.” Megatron picked up his pace, but refused to run after Prime, but the glitch was getting away. “Coward! Stop!”

Prime whipped around, optics narrowed. “What?! Primus, I _do_ have work to do, and not that it’s your business, but the datapad I need is on the table in my lounge. So what, by the bright, fragging, burning stars, do you need that’s so critical it can’t wait?”

Megatron blinked, a little taken aback, but he continued forward until he stood before Prime. “I want to know how the hatchlings came to be.”

“Ask Ra-”

“I did. He said to ask you and told me to get out of his medbay unless I was bleeding out.”

Prime huffed, arms crossing in front of his chest. “A number of us are like Star in that we can carry. It’s old equipment that everyone has.”

“I can create?” Megatron asked. “Not just The Fallen? Not just you?”

“Yes. But there’s more to it than that.”

“Hey, Prime!” Ironhide called as he rounded a corner, but whatever else he’d been going to say was forgotten in the sound of arm cannons whirring to life.

Megatron let his helm roll to the side until he could give the mech an unamused glower.

“Those aren’t necessary, Hide,” Prime said. “Just a _short_ biology lesson.”

“Why? Ain’t like anyone’s gonna wanna breed with him.”

Megatron’s mouth fell open in complete shock and not a little offense. Of course mechs had opinions, most not favorable, but _none_ just came out and said it!

“Ironhide.” Prime shook his helm, but the cannons didn’t settle. “As I was saying. Yes, every mech can help create, but only a few can carry. There are ten of us.”

Still irritated with Ironhide, Megatron gave him one last sneer, then faced Prime again. “Ten? And that one thinks that none of them would accept my superior genetics?”

Ironhide snorted, and Prime chuckled.

“Did he really just say that?” Ironhide laughed.

Prime shook his helm again. “Megatron,” he said, still laughing as well. “That’s… _You_ are a carrier.” At Megatron’s blank look, he sighed. “Hide? Would you please?” And to Megatron’s unending shock, retracted his chest plating and bared his spark.

“Are you nuts?” Ironhide demanded, quickly striding to Prime’s side, cannons a high, whining note filling the hallway. “Fraggin’ Pits! What are doin’?!”

“Showing him the difference. Open yours if you would?”

Burning with curiosity, Megatron showed his empty hands, and then laced his fingers behind his back voluntarily. Just what the frag was Prime doing?

“Those cannons aren’t necessary,” Prime said as Ironhide’s plating split and retracted.

“I got my spark bared ta _Megatron_.”

Prime’s lips pressed into a flat line, but then he pointed into Ironhide’s chest. “Do you see? There at the bottom of Ironhide’s crystal? There’s nothing there.”

“Should there be?” Megatron asked, slowly bending forward to look. As Prime had said, there was nothing. It was a crystal. The end.

“Now look at mine,” Prime instructed, finger pointing into his own chest.

Sure enough there was small, circular… port?

“That tiny valve there opens to allow in the combined CNA to begin forming into a body for a sparkling,” Prime said. “Only carriers have it. Others can only donate their transfluid and spark energy. _We_ collect that, an if the charge is sufficient, and the CNA and constructive materials are enough, sparking occurs.”

Megatron glanced back and forth a few times, then straightened. He tried to remember how many different hatchlings he’d seen, but they were all so tiny, and their creators hurried off so fast, he couldn’t be sure.

“So you see?” Prime asked, his plating shifting to close, Ironhide’s shutting immediately too. “Not only is physical intimacy required, but so is spark to spark contact. It’s not very likely that anyone’s going to trust you to help you create for some time. However, I fully encourage any efforts you can make to gaining that trust. Soundwave is doing well, and I know many were just as nervous about him being around as they are you.”

“‘Some time’… Primus, ya think?”

Megatron scowled at Ironhide, but didn’t waste more than a moment on him. “That should not be a problem. I’m assuming the ones I’ve seen are quite young. I’ll have time before the next, what, wave of breeding occurs?”

Prime tipped his helm. “You can carry whenever you wish, so long as you are not pressuring the donating mech into doing so.”

“Wait. What?”

Ironhide snickered, and Prime was grinning again. Megatron wasn’t sure, but perhaps Prime had developed a more cruel sense of humor. He felt like the aft-end of a joke he didn’t understand.

“ _You_ are a carrier, Megatron,” Prime said, and pointed at the center of Megatron’s chest. “ _You_ may carry whenever someone is willing to help you create. If you don’t believe me, and by the look on your face, you don’t, then go to your washroom and look. They all have mirrors. You can see for yourself. Now.” He stepped back, turning to head to the lift again. “I still need that datapad for the teleconference.”

“That’s what I was lookin’ for ya for,” Ironhide said, hurrying to keep pace with Prime.

Megatron stared after them as the lift doors shut, optics wide, mouth open. _He_ was a carrier? He’d seen his own spark casing before. There was nothing there. Was there? There couldn’t be. No, this was a practical joke, and they were probably in that damn lift laughing their afts off at him for believing them.

He tried to shake it off, but couldn’t, and ended up running to his quarters. Unbelievably, it was there. Megatron stared, and stared, even carefully reached into the crystal, shivering as his finger brushed the corona of his spark, and touched the little valve. He could carry.

 _He_ could create a whole new life.

But he _still_ didn’t know _how_!

Megatron snarled, and shut his plating, then cursed roundly. Sharing sparks, fine. But CNA donation? And where within him did those… mingled fluids come from to be brought up to his spark crystal?

Frustrated, and now burdened by yet more questions, Megatron threw himself to his berth to scowl impotently at the ceiling.

~ | ~

Soundwave forced himself to remain still, and focused on keeping his expression blank, though nothing could hide the heat in his pale face. He knew energon glowed, bright pink and obvious, but there was nothing he could do, and it was likely to get worse. His spark pounded hard in its casing, and the only thing that kept him from fleeing was the fact that Megatron wasn’t there. Soundwave couldn’t even feel him, which probably meant he wasn’t in the building.

“Good morning, everyone!” Prime said, pausing for the response. “This shouldn’t take too long, then we’ll get on with our day.” A hatchling trilled in the quiet, and he smiled.

“As some of you may have heard, Soundwave is a carrier and is interested in sparking. Consider the list open, he’ll choose when he’s ready.” Prime propped his hip against a table, and loosely crossed his arms, waiting a moment while the murmur rippled through everyone.

Soundwave felt his face flame even more as everyone twisted around to look at him. He blocked out the emotions that filled the room, but he hadn’t been quick enough to block all of them out. There was fear, a lot of fear. Some anger, and even a little disgust, but what caught his attention was the bright burst of… he couldn’t quite define it. It was more than hope. It even might have felt a little like greed.

“For Soundwave’s benefit,” Prime went on, “I want to reiterate that it is _his_ choice. That _no one_ is under any obligation to do _anything_ , and he is under no obligation to choose anyone in particular, and can change his mind if he likes.”

“And the hatchling will be _his_ ,” Star said, a warning note in his voice.

Soundwave tipped his helm in curiosity, but Star was glaring up at Prime, arms folded tightly over his chest, legs crossed, and wings lifted. He rang with irritation, but Soundwave couldn’t fathom why. Had there been protests about Soundwave being allowed to keep his sparkling and raise it himself? He could understand them to a certain extent, but the mere thought of a creation being taken made his spark pulse pain throughout his chest. Even his drone creations had meant something to him.

Prime nodded, hand lifting to gesture to Star. “As Star said, and just to reiterate: Yes, of course we’re all having a blast raising the hatchlings, and we’ve taken the human saying of ‘it takes a village’ literally, but the hatchling belongs _first_ to the spark that carried, birthed, and nourished him. All of the carriers have discussed this before. These are _our_ creations, _our_ children. Yes, we want- _need_ the support, affection, and time from everyone in our community, and so do our sparklings, but there will be _no_ keeping a sparkling one has not birthed himself. Ever.

“I do agree that it would be unfair, cruel even, to cut the co-creator out of the sparkling’s life, but unless something dire is happening,” Prime’s optics narrowed into a glare as he looked toward the far side of the common room from Soundwave, “ _no_ co-creator will ever be allowed to come between the carrier and his sparkling.

“Are there any questions?” Prime asked, relaxing as his optics roamed over the gathered mechs. “Ok,” he said when no one spoke. “Have a great day, everyone, and thank you.”

Soundwave stayed where he was, monitoring the list Prime linked him to. The list that any interested mechs would add their names to for him to choose from. There was only one name so far; Red Alert. He wouldn’t be a bad choice. Attractive, intelligent, and an officer. Soundwave did not feel much more accepted yet, and after Prime’s speech, was worried.

Would they try to take his sparkling away? Would they decide they could not bear his presence and make him leave the planet? There was no way a delicate hatchling could survive the rigors of space travel.

Soundwave was still fretting when Star stopped in front of him.

“Come with me,” Star ordered, then headed for the doors.

Soundwave rose to follow, looking across the common room to the play area, but there were too many mechs clustered around it for him to see if Star’s creations were there as well. He figured they were, as Star was incredibly protective of them and wouldn’t have just left them in his quarters.

He was led to a side storage room, Star going so far as to grab Soundwave’s arm and drag him inside before keying the door shut. When Soundwave opened his mouth to speak, Star covered it with his hand. Soundwave picked up the sound of hurried footsteps going by, followed by a heavier, wider tread, then Star released him.

“I want to talk to you about Red Alert,” Star said, and reached to turn on the lights.

Soundwave glanced around, but it was just another average storage closet. The list held three more names now, and he couldn’t help but feel his spark lift at the show of support. Not that he could choose a former Decepticon for this first time, but he understood the gesture and appreciated it. “I am listening.”

“Red Alert was chosen by Prowl half a vorn ago,” Star began, speaking quickly. “He was treated poorly by Red Alert and Inferno, though at least Inferno had the grace to squirm and look guilty today when Prime was speaking about the sparkling staying with his carrier. If you choose him, make sure you make your own boundaries clear first. Understand?”

“No,” Soundwave replied. “Not entirely.” He frowned a little, trying to think of how to express his concerns without looking weak, then realized he had no need for such shields anymore.

“I want to stay. I want to keep my sparkling with me. If I choose an officer-”

“No,” Star cut in, shaking his helm. “No, that’s not how it works. Primus, Soundwave. Optimus won’t exile you. Not unless you _try_ to harm another person or destroy all we’ve built. He fought _me_ over allowing you and Megatron to stay. I was ready to take my hatchlings and leave, and he was still adamant that you be given a chance.

“He’s not going to cast you out, and _no one_ , not Prime, not Megatron, not the co-creator you choose will _ever_ take your baby from you.”

But Red Alert remained the only politically sound name on the list, and Soundwave was impatient to get started.

Star heaved a sigh and shook his helm. “Like I said. Think about your own boundaries. Do you feel comfortable with Inferno being there? Are you willing to have Red Alert around for either of the births? Just take a breath, give yourself a day or two to really think how _you_ want this all to go. And when you do it, be certain you’re on your back, and close all containment before sitting back up. Red Alert’s not… bad. He’s just ridiculously desperate, and can’t manage to remember that we’re not fragging vending machines.”

Soundwave nodded his understanding, and did not comment on the sadness throbbing out from Star. “Advice appreciated,” he offered, and on impulse, reached out to touch Star’s arm.

Star gave him a smile that did not reach his optics. “You’ll probably get more offers too. And I’m the worst at this, but still, try to be just a little patient?”

“I will try.” Tomorrow, Soundwave thought. He could bear to wait until tomorrow before choosing, and he would be sure to let himself be seen as well. Perhaps Star was right, and more than former Decepticons in a show of solidarity, and a desperate mech would offer themselves to assist him.

~ | ~

Optimus listened in, frowning as Soundwave and Red Alert spoke. He had been torn about doing this, but as usual, Star was right. Soundwave was too eager to carry, and Red Alert too desperate, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Primus, forgive him, but at times he regretted letting Megatron land. Things had been mostly calm, but now they had Megatron clomping around like a dark cloud, making everyone tense. And while Soundwave wasn’t nearly as bad, he was still feared.

Now Red Alert. Again.

Soundwave was handling him well. No, Inferno could not be present. Of course Soundwave would allow Red Alert to be a close part of the sparkling’s life, but if he felt pushed or threatened, he would shut Red Alert out. Red Alert had looked terrified at the idea, but he did try one more time to convince Soundwave to allow Inferno to be a part of it, so the sparkling would be a blending of them both.

“No,” Soundwave said. “If still interested, meet me at my quarters in two hours.”

Optimus shifted guiltily as Soundwave rounded and marched out of the small meeting room. He had nowhere to hide, didn’t want to be rude about his eavesdropping, but then also felt he was justified after having heard Red Alert. Soundwave did not seem bothered, however, and even lightly brushed Optimus’ hand with his own as he passed.

“Sir?” Red Alert asked, as Optimus watched Soundwave walked away.

Soundwave might really be the best choice for Red Alert to learn about being a co-creator with, Optimus thought. He turned back to Red Alert. “I find your continued and blatant disregard troubling, Red Alert.”

Color flamed on Red Alert’s face. “I understand-”

“Do you?” Optimus cut him off. “Do you understand at all? Because even if Soundwave is convinced, I am not. I am not at all certain you have truly processed the fact that even if you help create, that sparkling is _not_ yours. Not any more than he is willing to allow. And while I feel it would be wrong of me to tell him he cannot choose you, I think he would accept it, and far better that I overstep my rights now, then watch you tear apart our new society before we even truly begin.”

“Tear apart?!” Red Alert’s optics were wide and pale. “I just want to be a part of it!”

“And I think Soundwave is determined and strong enough to rein you in,” Optimus continued, speaking over Red Alert, “ but I do not want to have to deal with any new animosities. This and all the talking you and Inferno did _about_ Prowl before he chose Mirage has brought up a lot of old resentments in regards to your behavior. Mine included.”

Red Alert’s shoulders slumped, chin dropping to his chest. “It’s not fair. I would carry if I could. I would have hundreds of sparklings, but I would be happy with just one. One that was mine and Inferno’s, and…”

Optimus steeled himself against the guilt when he saw a tear track slowly down Red Alert’s cheek and heard his vents catch. He reached out and gripped Red Alert’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Unfair it may be, but it would be equally unfair of you to take a sparkling from his carrier.

“You know that as we grow, as our population increases, that co-creators are going to be needed more and more to help raise and guide the young ones. Mechs need to trust you, Red Alert. They all need to know, _Soundwave_ needs to _know_ that he has your support, not be made to feel like he must jealously guard his creation for fear of you stealing him away. This sparkling you are going to help Soundwave create will be a part of you, but that doesn’t make him your property.

“I need to know that you understand this. That my words are getting through this time.”

Red Alert nodded, and wiped at his face. “I do. I really do, I just don’t know how _not_ to want a sparkling of my own.”

Sighing, Optimus squeezed Red Alert’s shoulder again, trying to impart some comfort even as he spoke words he knew would sound cruel. “Then perhaps you aren’t ready for this. Perhaps you should reconsider.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” Red Alert hiccupped, and pulled a cloth from his subspace as Optimus released him. “I have two hours.” He looked up at Optimus, optics wide and earnest. “I _do_ understand though, sir. I really do, and I’ll… monitor my behavior better. I’m sorry I’ve come across-” A sob escaped, and he covered his mouth a moment, fighting for control. “That I’ve come across in a way that’s broken people’s trust in me.”

Optimus couldn’t resist. He gathered Red Alert close in a hug, knowing how much being trusted meant to the mech. He’d been cruel, hoping to be kind in the long run, but he hadn’t wanted to break the mech’s spark. “I do trust you, Red,” he murmured, purring softly against the red helm. “Whatever you choose, be sure you’re doing it for the right reason.”

Red Alert nodded, then pulled back. “Thank you, sir.”

Optimus watched him hurry away, and tried to hold on to hope. He didn’t believe for a moment that Red Alert wouldn’t be going to Soundwave soon, but he thought he might actually have gotten through this time.

Primus, please let him understand, he prayed.

~ | ~

Soundwave pressed the call button, and waited nervously for Megatron to answer his door.

“So you’ve finally decided to face me?” Megatron asked when the door slid aside, and quickly forced away the surprised expression that had swept over his face when he saw Soundwave.

“May I enter?” Soundwave asked, spark pounding. This was that greeting he had expected, but not the one he’d wanted.

“Oh? _Now_ you want to come inside _this_ room? Did you forget something when you left?” Megatron crossed his arms over his chest, and stood blocking the door with his feet braced wide apart. “After so many vorns, I never expected _you_ to betray me.”

“I have not.”

“Haven’t you?” Megatron demanded, and Soundwave ruthlessly suppressed a flinch. “You left!” he hissed. “You knew how it worked and you never bothered to tell me. I asked you, and you didn’t answer! Then today I learn you’re going to let that glitching little fool co-create with you? And that was _after_ hearing that you gave your seals to Prime and _Starscream_! If that is not betrayal of all the trust I’ve placed in you, then what is?”

Soundwave frowned beneath his masks, but didn’t speak. He could pull enough of the surface thoughts from Megatron to see that he had overheard Drag Strip and Breakdown talking, and he had no defense. He didn’t even feel he needed one as his choices were solely his own to make.

“Well? What is it you want?”

“To share sparks with you,” Soundwave replied, nearly blurting the words. He’d wanted to be smoother. He’d wanted Megatron to be more welcoming, forgiving, though he supposed he should have known better. He had been avoiding the mech since walking out of this very room.

Megatron blinked, then again. “What?”

Soundwave cycled his vents carefully. “I would like to share sparks with you.” He didn’t want his first merge to be with Red Alert. He wanted Megatron. He had always wanted Megatron, but had long ago accepted that he wasn’t desired in return. If they could spend so long alone, the last two just drifting through space, and Megatron still never even hinted at desiring him, Soundwave didn’t think he ever would. However, the prospect of being in a berth, his spark bared to Red Alert, drove him here. He had to ask.

It took a moment, but then Megatron’s face twisted in rage. A blast of fury knocked Soundwave back a few steps before Megatron’s hands even fisted.

“You _dare_?!” Megatron hissed.

For a moment Soundwave truly believed that Megatron would hit him, but instead he stepped back, slammed the door controls, and left Soundwave staring at the door as the locks beeped.

Soundwave bit his lip, spark sinking, and turned away. He had known Megatron would be displeased, but he had -foolishly- hoped that he could manage to guide his former leader away from his untenable desire to rule and into the peace they’d originally set out to achieve. The idea that he might manage to finally make the connection he’d longed for, for so long, had been foolish too.

Turning away, Soundwave made his way to the lift, carefully boxing his emotions. He had time before-

“Soundwave!” Red Alert called, jogging along the corridor. He all but slid into the lift despite Soundwave holding the door for him, radiating determination and a deeper pain. “I’m sorry.”

Spark skipping, Soundwave asked, “For?”

“Being selfish. I can’t promise not to forget myself, but I swear I won’t ever try to take the sparkling from you. I’m grateful that you’ve chosen me.”

Soundwave let the door close, and keyed his floor. “I am grateful for the assistance.”

Red Alert hesitated, his weight shifting. “I don’t want to push, so if you need the time, I’ll see you in an hour, I just wanted to say that Optimus helped me get it into perspective. I don’t mean to be an aft, I just…”

“Now is acceptable,” Soundwave said. “Desperation shared. Sparkling will be as well.”

Red Alert beamed up at him, optics going liquid and a wave of joy sweeping out. Soundwave blocked it all out. They were using one another for a very specific end. A bargain Soundwave felt he was getting the better end of. He had felt the concern and anger in Prime as Red Alert and Soundwave had spoken. He knew now that his claims over his sparkling would never be questioned. Not by Prime, and it was his word that made the laws.

Soundwave led Red Alert to his quarters and directly into the berthroom. He was ready. It took a little creative imaging as he settled in the middle of his berth on his back, but the memories of being caught between Prime and Star were fresh, and he was going to create a new life. It was all the incentive his systems needed, and he held a hand out to Red Alert when he hesitated beside the berth.

“Uh, yes…”

Red Alert crawled over him, and Soundwave parted his legs and retracted his plating. Soundwave’s spark glowed between them. He struggled briefly with the final crystal barrier, but it slid aside too, leaving Red Alert’s white face a plane of light.

“Oh my…” Red Alert breathed. His own chest plates separated. A twist of his hips and a click, and his spike jutted, ready and glistening with lubricant between them.

Soundwave shut his optics as Red Alert brought their sparks together, and focused on _not_ feeling Red Alert beyond the energy pulsing through their sparks, and on keeping his own emotions from bleeding over.

They stumbled, sparks stuttering to find a rhythm, but as Red Alert’s spike sank into him Soundwave found it easy enough to just let go. He let the pleasure swell and carry him, though he was still embarrassed by the uninhibited, ecstatic scream the overload ripped from him, and how he clung to Red Alert before he could uncurl his fingers.

They lay panting and gasping, then Red Alert pushed himself up. Soundwave watched him for a moment as his gyros spun, but when Red Alert’s hand moved toward his spark, he snapped his plating shut, and sat up.

“S-sorry. I just thought-” Red Alert cut himself off and moved away to avoid their helms smacking together. “Sorry,” he repeated. “I can stay? If you like?”

“Unnecessary.” Soundwave laid back down, shutting his interface panel as well, array still tingling. “I will go to Ratchet for confirmation shortly, then contact you once pod expulsion has occurred.”

Nodding, though clearly not wanting to accept the dismissal, Red Alert crawled off the berth. “If there’s anything you need-”

“Understood. Thank you.” Soundwave closed his optics again, and tried to calm his ragged breathing. He listened to Red Alert leave, gave himself another five minutes to pull himself together, then went to see Ratchet.

~ | ~

“Spill it,” Star ordered, dropping down to sit beside Soundwave in the sand. From the corner of his optic, he watched Thunder and Sky toddle down to the water’s edge to play in the lapping surf. Lightning chirruped from his lap, bright optics on his older brothers.

Soundwave didn’t move, and for a moment Star thought he was going to have to push for any kind of a response. “I do not understand.”

Star snorted. “You’re sparked. You’re carrying your very own bitlet, and instead of being happy, you’re… _moping_.” He scowled. “Do you regret it?”

“No!” Soundwave faced Star, masks retracting. Star preferred that, liked being able to see his face. “No, I do not regret it.” His hand came up to cover his chest, resting over where the sparking grew.

“Then why are you so withdrawn?” Star reset Lightning as he tried to escape, tickling the tiny hatchling when he fussed in frustration. Thunder and Sky were making mounds in the sand, laughing when a stronger wave washed over them before starting over again. “Red Alert didn’t mistreat you after that talk Optimus had with him, did he?”

“Negative. Interfacing adequate and effective.”

Star boggled at him. “Fragging Primus. Adequate and effective. Are you kidding me?”

Soundwave arched an optic ridge at him. “Negative.”

Biting his lip and cycling his vents, Star forced back the frustration. “Then what is it if the ‘facing was good enough?”

The silence stretched for a few minutes, and Star applied the same tactics he used on Optimus, and waited. They watched Thunder and Sky kick at the surf and fall down laughing. Sky came up with a shell, so Thunder had to look for one too.

“I had never merged before.”

“Say that again.”

Soundwave sighed, giving Star an annoyed look. “I have never before merged sparks. I went to Megatron, but he declined. Red Alert was the first.”

The smart remark Star was going to make regarding Megatron fell away, and he frowned. “Primus.” Lightning grabbed his fingers and chewed, so Star distractedly settled his creation to feed. Lightning slurped happily at his finger, and the twins stumbled up the beach to them, both proudly displaying their shells.

Sky crawled into Soundwave’s lap, and for a moment Star tensed, but then dismissed it. Soundwave was not going to hurt his hatchlings. And it was very entertaining to watch Soundwave’s reaction.

At first Soundwave froze, hands lifted out, but Sky babbled on, most of his words just a jumble of sounds. Once the hatchling was comfortable, he held the shell up, practically jamming it under Soundwave’s nose, forcing Soundwave to gently grasp his hand and lower it.

“Lovely,” Soundwave said.

“Is pretties,” Sky agreed, nodding empathically.

Star grinned, free hand stroking Thunder’s helm as he showed off his shell. “Very pretty. Make sure you put them back so someone else can find them again later.”

Thunder beamed, and ran back down the beach, squealing as he flung the shell into the water. Sky tumbled out of Soundwave’s lap, rushing to join his twin.

“I like them. They’re cute,” Star said with a quiet snicker. In his lap, Lightning’s optics were beginning to shut, more interested in a nap than his brothers’ exciting adventures in treasure hunting.

Soundwave rubbed his own chest plating again, optics locked on the twins. “Precious,” he whispered. “Beyond perfect.”

Star smiled, gazing at Lightning as his finger was released. “Yes, they are.” He looked up at Soundwave. “Would you like to merge? Not now, clearly, but maybe tonight?”

Soundwave’s helm whipped around, his optics wide. “Merge?”

Star nodded and smirked. “I can certainly do better than adequate.”

“The sparkling?”

“Merging doesn’t harm them. Just keep your crystal closed.”

They both turned back to the twins as dual shrieks rang out, followed by hysterical giggles. Star called them back, and stood, gently cradling Lightning against his shoulder. “If you want to, come to our quarters tonight.”

“Dadada!” Thunder babbled, holding up another shell, Sky pointing at it emphatically.

“Very nice. Now put it back. We’ll go see Optimus and Torque.” Star glanced down at Soundwave while Thunder chucked the shell toward the ocean. “I mean it. The offer stands.” He could feel Soundwave’s optics on his back until he entered the building.

~ | ~

Megatron locked himself away after he heard Soundwave had sparked. The betrayal stung, and he was far too angry to risk being around anyone. For days he sat in his quarters, thinking, planning, plotting.

And discarding everything.

They were nothing but violent fantasies anyway. He wasn’t going to kill Prime, or beat Soundwave, or gather up all the hatchlings and raise -literally- a new army. He just could not fathom _why_ Soundwave had abandoned him. Why, after so long, would his most loyal companion walk out? And what brought on that sudden offer for a spark merge?

Sitting in his room wasn’t going to bring him any answers, however, so Megatron ventured back out. Instead of keeping his distance, he imposed his presence. He did not approach any mech carrying a hatchling. He did not call out to the little ones- though he did once smile and wave back at little Thunder when the bitlet called his name. He frequented the common room, wandered the beaches, poked into the labs out of curiosity. When a suspicious and confused Prime offered him a task to keep him busy, Megatron accepted it, completing whatever was required efficiently and correctly. It gave him a chance to listen in when others were there, and think when he was alone.

For nearly three months, Megatron did nothing but think and watch and _listen_.

It was hard to put aside his cynicism. It took effort to stop sneering at how _happy_ they all were. It took nightmares and dreams, and a depth of introspection Megatron had not engaged in… ever.

The turning point, Megatron could see when he thought back, was the day Zepher wandered off. Bluestreak was beside himself, and a mech would need to be blind not to see the guilt under the fear. He had fallen into recharge on the beach with both Zepher and the tiny newborn Eclipse. When he woke, the half vorn old Zepher was gone. Prints led to the water, but not back from it. A hatchling could not drown, but he could wander lost under the water until he left the lagoon and fell off the shelf.

Megatron had shaken his helm at the increasingly horrific fates awaiting the hatchling, and left the beach. Everyone else was focused on the water, but he’d seen Zepher -and just about every other mobile hatchling- chasing the felines that ran feral in the trees many times.

Bluestreak had openly wept in relief when Megatron held out Zepher, the hatchling babbling happily until he was practically smothered by his creator.

From that point on, Megatron was more accepted. It wasn’t overt. Mechs didn’t come up to him, or start conversations, or bring him cubes the way they did for one another, though Bluestreak had thanked him profusely, and Prime had smiled, pleased. But no one else really _did_ anything. It was more what they _no longer_ did.

They stopped finding excuses to move away, or even completely leave the area when Megatron arrived. They no longer herded the hatchlings away from him. Starscream still kept his distance, optics sharp and bright whenever Thunder or Sky would tumble over to Megatron to chatter at him and show off some toy or bauble, but he didn’t hiss. He didn’t snatch them away, and neither did anyone else.

Then there was Soundwave. He appeared closest to Starscream and Prime, even Ratchet. Jazz too, was often found talking and joking with Soundwave. Red Alert hovered without being imposing, but Megatron could see it bothered Soundwave. Probably no one else noticed, but Megatron would watch how when Red Alert came too close, Soundwave would slowly tense up, his plating drawing in tighter.

Red Alert himself spend much of his free time in the medbay, optics locked on the growing sparkling alone in an incubation tank. Megatron had looked in as well, holding a rather civil conversation with Ratchet about the topic.

At least he now knew how it all worked. He was tempted to break his own seals, but there _was_ something to the idea of sharing that experience. Of course that would mean reaching out to Soundwave, and Megatron didn’t know how that would go over.

However, he had all the time he needed now. There was simply no point in fighting it. The mechs here had what he’d wanted for all of Cybertron. Now he needed to gain trust back so his voice would be heard in the coming eons, and they wouldn’t make the same errors as before.

~ | ~

Soundwave could barely believe it, but there he was, in his arms, so little and perfect.

“Have a name for him?” Ratchet asked, voice soft and low.

“Echo,” Soundwave replied. “He is Echo.”

“Hey, little Echo,” Ratchet crooned, one finger tracing down the newborn’s cheek. Echo turned toward Ratchet’s finger, mouth opening as he chased it in pure instinct. “Want to try feeding him before heading out?”

Soundwave had seen it done often enough by the other carriers, so shook his helm. “Negative. I would like time alone to get acquainted.”

Ratchet nodded. “Ok, well comm me if you have any issues or questions.” He bent to lightly kiss Echo’s helm. “See you later, little bit.”

Soundwave smiled, lifting his creation to nuzzle a tiny cheek as he exited the medbay. It was late in the afternoon already, and he was looking forward to the night alone with his new hatchling. Knowing Soundwave’s wishes, Ratchet had contacted him quietly, and just the two of them had welcomed Echo.

Red Alert had been… polite. He didn’t mean to push, Soundwave could feel it in him, but he was still too _present_. Soundwave would introduce him to Echo in the morning, and hopefully he would relax once he experienced being a part of the hatchling’s life.

One thing Soundwave had not expected was to all but run into Megatron. He rounded a corner right in front of Soundwave, both of the drawing up short. Soundwave’s optics went wide, genuinely startled as all his focus had been on Echo.

Megatron tipped his helm, then smiled. “Congratulations.”

Soundwave’s spark pounded. Megatron’s behavior had been different of late, but Soundwave’s attempts to feel whether it was an act or not had been unfruitful. He just couldn’t tell without pushing and making his telepathic presence known. “Thank you,” he managed to say, and shifted his weight. He wasn’t ready for a confrontation. He wanted to curl around his hatchling and recharge, nothing more.

“Soundwave-”

“I cannot,” Soundwave said, then continued at Megatron’s confused expression. “I cannot support any initiatives to disrupt-”

“Stop.” Megatron brought his hand up, and scowled as Soundwave flinched back. “Soundwave.” He sighed, glanced down the corridor behind Soundwave, then back, frowning a little as he lowered his hand and voice. “We- _I_ have no designs or desires to disrupt anything here.” He glanced down the hall again. “Come. I’m sure you want to rest with your creation.”

Soundwave was tense, but he allowed Megatron to lead him around the corner and on toward the lift.

“Red Alert is coming,” Megatron said quietly, and picked up the pace.

Soundwave hurried too. Not tonight. Tomorrow. _His_ creation, his alone tonight. He caught sight of Red Alert just as the lift doors closed. He saw the mech’s shoulders slump, and felt a little guilty, but he just wasn’t ready to share.

Of course, Megatron was there, but that felt familiar, normal. Soundwave had no trouble at all admitting to himself that he’d missed the powerful presence. Megatron was the one constant in his life. When Megatron had died, Soundwave had felt lost. Walking away had been the right choice, but he had still ached from the loss. He looked up at Megatron, felt a warmth settle around his spark, and decided that maybe it was time to try for reconciliation.

When the lift opened, Soundwave led the way to his quarters and invited Megatron in by simply not bidding him goodnight. He walked straight to his berth, only glancing back once to be sure Megatron was following.

Red optics swept around the space as Megatron crossed the lounge. There wasn’t much changed since Soundwave had taken up residence, but he had laid claim to a few things. On the conversation table rested a handful of shells various hatchlings had collected and gifted him with, and there were datapads with bookfiles on a shelf.

Megatron smirked, huffing a slight laugh as he entered the berthroom. Soundwave tensed as the thermal blanket was picked up from where it had been folded up at the foot of his berth. “Ah, my nemesis.” He chuckled, shaking it out. “Well, lie down.”

Soundwave obeyed, curious where this was going, but as he curled on his side and placed Echo on the berth by his chest, Megatron merely swung the blanket out over him. He walked to the far side of the berth and settled on his side as well, facing Soundwave.

“If I’m presuming too much, say so.”

Soundwave shook his helm, optics on his hatchling as he tempted Echo to feed. “Presence acceptable.” He glanced up, offering a soft smile. “Presence welcomed.”

The entire atmosphere changed with Soundwave’s words. They both relaxed, and Megatron smiled in return before letting it slide away to a more serious expression. “I must apologize to you, Soundwave.” He plucked at the edge of the blanket a little, but held Soundwave’s optics. “Your loyalty means a great deal to me and always has. I should not have allowed my own frustrations to push you away.”

Soundwave dropped his gaze to Echo, and tried not to squirm. “I understood, but I wanted… him. I was very tired.” He looked back up. “I cannot go back to what it was. I… don’t want you to be my lord and master anymore.”

“What do you want me to be?” Megatron asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver through Soundwave.

“More.”

Megatron’s smiled returned, and he leaned forward. Soundwave felt his face heat, and desire pool around his spark, vents catching as their lips met.

It didn’t last as Echo chose that moment to chirp and kick, but Soundwave didn’t mind. He was floating, and couldn’t stop smiling.

~

Megatron woke when Soundwave moved, lazily watching as he slipped from the berth, leaving his recharging hatchling carefully tucked under the edge of the blanket. Megatron followed, moving equally as quiet, and accepted the energon Soundwave held out.

“Your request to share sparks with me was rather sudden,” Megatron said, taking a seat on the sofa.

Soundwave joined him, sitting closer than would have been appropriate before. “I wished to experience it with you before creating Echo.”

Megatron’s helm tipped, and he felt an uncommon squeeze of guilt, but did Soundwave truly mean it the way it had sounded? “And I denied you a meaningful first experience.”

Soundwave shook his helm. “Negative. Meaning found.” He smiled and tipped his helm toward the berthroom door. “If you are now willing, I would be interested in experiencing something better than adequate and effective.”

“Adequate? Primus. Clearly Starscream has not corrupted these Autobots enough. Adequate.” Megatron snorted, and reached for Soundwave. He tugged and arranged, and Soundwave allowed him to until he was seated, straddling silver thighs. Megatron traced armor edges, watching his fingers as Soundwave watched him. “I think we do can much better than adequate.”

“I hope so,” Soundwave replied, grinning. “I have been waiting.”

Chuckling, Megatron met Soundwave’s optics. “No pressure then.” He pushed one hand behind Soundwave’s neck and pulled him down into a slow, strut-melting kiss.

Lightning shot to Soundwave’s spark, and he curled in against Megatron. He dug his fingers beneath thick plating to tug at lines, and moaned when powerful arms wrapped tight around him. This he remembered. This felt safe.

“I want you,” Soundwave whispered, rocking slightly to rub their plating together. Charge zinged where metal kissed and slid, and beneath him, Megatron growled.

Plating split and retracted, and Soundwave whimpered as the sight of Megatron’s brilliant spark. He bared his spark as well, the crystal sliding away. There would be no barriers for him.

Megatron reached up, fingers disappearing into Soundwave’s chest to tease the edges of his crystal before dipping into the corona of his spark. The idea alone sent a shock of lust and a thrill of danger through Soundwave, but the touches arched his back, made his joints lock up for a moment, and tore a sharp cry from him.

They both froze, listening for a moment.

Megatron chuckled, then with a smirk, pulled Soundwave in tighter. Soundwave clawed into his shoulders, and muted his vocalizer. He shook under the onslaught of wicked pleasure, mouth open in a silent scream, and vents roaring. When Megatron growled again, right against his spark, Soundwave’s world exploded in a flare of white-hot ecstasy. Joints locked, body shaking hard enough to make his plating rattle, the overload held him in a tight grip for an endless moment, then released him to fall. Soundwave gasped, crumpling forward against Megatron.

Almost before he could process, Soundwave was falling backward, but he couldn’t stop it. He flopped to the sofa rather than the floor, and Megatron rose over him, optics a dark claret, and his expression intense. Soundwave whimpered, though no sound escaped, and pulled at broad shoulders. He mouthed the word, “Please,” and arched his chest up.

Megatron’s fingertips lightly caressed down the side of Soundwave’s face. “Are you done waiting?”

Teasing?! Primus, please, not this time. Soundwave rebooted his vocalizer, keening through the static. “Megatron!”

A deep rumble of a laugh rolled through Soundwave, and then Megatron was pressing down against him. Pleasure rushed him, and he reached back with his own spark, pushing a hard pulse of energy back to Megatron. He sank into the rhythm, reveling in the solid weight over him. Soundwave writhed, hands moving and clutching, panting and gasping for cooler air. Megatron moaned, deep and resonant, by his audial, mouth trailing along Soundwave’s jaw until he reached his lips. Their mouths molded together, the kiss a devouring lock neither would relinquish.

The rhythm faltered, and Soundwave felt more than heard the low purr rumble up from deep within Megatron. He moaned in response, then jolted as a heavy backlash of power burst through him. His scream was muffled in their kiss as his sensornet sang with bliss. He could feel the echoes of it in Megatron, surging energy cresting again and again until Soundwave let it carry him into sweet darkness.

~

Megatron pushed himself off of Soundwave, still groggy and unsure what had woken him. Then he heard it again, a soft squeak from the other room. His spark lurched, and he hurried to check on Echo.

The hatchling was fine, though he had somehow managed to wriggle half way down the berth _under_ Soundwave’s blanket. Megatron smiled, rumbling a soft purr at the newborn as he lifted him. Echo felt impossibly delicate and light, more so that the older hatchlings that had crawled into Megatron’s lap. He cradled the little one close to his chest, then settled on the berth, back against the wall. If Echo managed to squirm away, at least they were over soft cushioning there.

For a time, Echo was content to kick and wriggle, but when chewing and sucking on Megatron’s fingers produced no energon, he began to fuss. The first true wail of distress brought a harried-looking Soundwave to the door.

“I think he’s hungry,” Megatron said as Soundwave hurried across the room.

“I thought-” Soundwave shook his helm, gently taking Echo from Megatron. “I was careless.”

“He’s fine. He was fine when he woke, and we’ve been discussing his future in the Decepticon empire.” Soundwave’s optics shot to Megatron’s face, and Megatron laughed. The look he was given was priceless, and he couldn’t help but reach out and pull Soundwave against him.

“My creation will not fight in wars,” Soundwave growled, but let Megatron hold him.

Megatron wound his arms around Soundwave’s middle, squeezing a little as he nibbled at neck cables. “I was teasing, but if it upsets you, I won’t.”

Soundwave tipped his helm, allowing better access to his neck, and didn’t reply. He did lean back against Megatron’s chest and relax, however, so Megatron let it go. He rested his chin on Soundwave’s shoulder, watching as Echo greedily sucked at the end of a finger.

“Strange way to feed them,” he commented.

“Effective. And only required for a quarter vorn.” Soundwave smiled. “Tickles though.”

“Perhaps someday I shall have to attempt this,” Megatron said, lifting a hand to touch Echo. The newborn squirmed and kicked his foot, but held onto Soundwave’s finger. “I know who I would want to be the co-creator already.” He could- _would_ choose without the list. He and Soundwave could agree on their own if they wanted, though Megatron didn’t think he would be interested just yet.

“Do you?” Soundwave asked, voice a husky purr.

Megatron nipped at his jaw line, and didn’t answer.

~ | ~

“They like you.”

Megatron looked up and smirked at Prime. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Prime smiled, and sat beside Megatron, placing Torque on his hands and knees on the floor. The hatchling chirruped and squealed, and head down, charged forward into Thunder and Sky. All three tumbled to their sides, and a few others came over to join the impromptu wrestling match.

“I blame Ironhide,” Prime said solemnly, making Megatron laugh. “I wasn’t so rough and tumble.”

That earned him a snort, and Megatron even reached over to push him. Prime pushed back, then paused, mouth twisting to the side as he realized what he’d done.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say a thing,” Megatron chuckled.

“You thought it.”

“Soundwave teaching you his tricks?”

Prime pushed Megatron’s shoulder again, but then settled down. They watched the hatchling playing, and Megatron let the quiet murmur of conversation from the other mechs in the common room wash over him. Thoughts drifted through his mind, and one thing that he’d been wondering about came to the forefront.

“This is a very small island.”

Prime looked over at him, then grinned. “It is. There’s been some discussion with the humans about making a joint venture to Mars. They will help us with the resources to power the _Ark_ , and we will build and terraform on Mars in a way that would allow human life as well.”

“You don’t have the resources already?” Megatron asked.

Prime shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to let them help, and we’ll still hold the majority of the decision-making power. Allowing their scientists to study, and keeping good relations up with our neighboring planet benefits us all.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t tried to claim that Mars is theirs.”

Prime huffed. “Oh, they did. Over a hundred years ago.” He smiled and offered a falsely innocent shrug. “Now though, humans are more inclined to believe Mars belongs to us all. Who knows what another hundred years will bring.”

Megatron stared, absently lifting Sunburst into his lap when the hatchling began to chatter at him. “I thought you didn’t believe in conquest?”

“It’s hardly conquest,” Prime said. “They don’t own Mars. Of course, neither do we. It harms nothing to slowly let them come to agree that Cybertronians on Mars would be a positive step forward in their own species’ exploration of the galaxy. What is a hundred years to us? What is two or three?

“But for them, with their short lives and insatiable curiosity, it’s generations. They change so fast. We can guide toward a peaceful agreement if we’re patient, and when we do get to Mars, it will be our designs, our needs ahead of theirs on _our_ new home world, and our Earthling friends will forever be greeted warmly and treated as honored guests.”

Megatron blinked at Prime, stunned. “That’s incredibly manipulative.” He grinned. “I like it.”

Prime snorted, and looked down to accept the gift of a toy block from Blaze. “Thank you very much. I’ve always liked this red one.” Blaze beamed up at him, then toddled off, and Prime turned back to Megatron.

“All politics are manipulative. My goals, however, are to see our own people safe and secure, and happy, and _sovereign_ once again. I’m not taking anything from them, but I am letting them have the time to adapt and accept it.”

“And what if they one day come to Mars and want it for their own?”

Prime frowned, shoulders slumping. “I don’t want to think of more war, especially one that may never occur. But, I suppose if diplomacy failed, we would have to answer decisively with a show of force.” He gave Megatron a severe look. “However, giving them time, making peace, becoming the friendly aliens that all living humans have known all their lives, all their grandparents’ lives, so that war is the last thing they think of when they think of us, is why I’m doing it this way.”

Megatron nodded, helping Sunburst back to the floor. “I understand the reasoning. I agree with it.” He shrugged. “I suppose I’ve forgotten how good you could be at leading and thinking from multiple angles. Though I am glad to hear you’ve considered the possibility of a war. Even if you don’t like it.”

“You saw the defenses on this planet when you arrived,” Prime reminded him. “You taught dark lessons, brother, but I learned them well.”

Megatron’s back straightened so fast it actually hurt. Prime’s face colored, but he didn’t take the words back.

Deciding that letting that lie was for the best, Megatron nodded toward the hatchlings. “And what of them? Is the plan just to have as many as possible, then go to Mars?”

“No. In fact we’ve recently discussed that perhaps we should hold off on having any more until after living quarters and other vital facilities are built and ready,” Prime replied.

“That,” Starscream said as he arrived and placed Lightning in the play area, “and we aren’t sure of the effects space travel will have on such delicate frames. Mars’ gravity is lower than here on Earth too, but until we get there and start to work, we won’t know how our presence will change it, and I’ll be slagged before I leave behind my creations so young.”

It was surprisingly calm, coming from Starscream, Megatron thought, considering _he_ was involved. The conversation continued, others joining in now that Starscream seemed to have opened the discussion beyond Megatron and Prime.

Megatron listened and watched, offering Soundwave a smile when he appeared with Echo. The newest hatchling curled on his back on the floor, hands grasping his feet, and bright, curious gold optics watching the other little ones as they moved and played. Megatron wrapped an arm around Soundwave’s waist and pulled him closer, smiling again at the low, content purr that earned him.

Why had he railed against this so vehemently? Looking around, Megatron couldn’t remember. It seemed foolish and self-destructive now. Shaking away those thoughts, he nuzzled Soundwave’s helm, then reached down to tickle Echo’s feet. He laughed when the hatchling squealed and trilled. He felt at peace at long last. Happy.

Home, Megatron decided. He was finally home.

**Author's Note:**

> [Winks by LB82](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7263340/chapters/16491490)
> 
>  
> 
> Starscream –  
> Thunder and Sky – 2009  
> Lightning - Co-creator Blurr 2134
> 
> Bluestreak –  
> Zepher – Co-creator Tracks 2092  
> Eclipse – Co-creator Beachcomber 2134
> 
> Jolt –  
> Blaze – Co-creator Smokescreen 2092  
> Typhoon – Co-creator Hound 2134
> 
> Ratchet –  
> Gauge – Co-creator Perceptor 2092  
> Boomer – Co-creator Wheeljack 2134
> 
> Sideswipe –  
> Sunburst – Co-creator Sunstreaker 2092  
> Silverwing – Co-creator Skyfire 2134
> 
> Jazz –  
> Shadow – Co-creator Bumblebee 2134
> 
> Optimus Prime –  
> Torque – Co-creator Ironhide 2134
> 
> Prowl –  
> Whisper – Co-creator Mirage 2134
> 
> Soundwave –  
> Echo – Co-creator Red Alert 2134


End file.
